All's Fair
by IronicNarwhal
Summary: Northern High School: A mess of drama. Berwald Oxenstierna just wants to catch the attention of Tino Väinämöinen. Nikolai Sorenson just wants to survive the last few weeks of his schooling unscathed. And Mathias Køhler is pulled into a wonderful mess.
1. Chapter 1: The New Kid

**Notes**: Well, I got a new computer. *Does happy dance* I'm going to do something odd with this one, that I don't do with most of my stories anymore…I'm going to post this as a WIP. I'm getting kind of tired of writing stuff, and not getting feedback…and then giving up because of it. So please, review. I would very much appreciate it. It will tell me whether you like the story, and if you want me to continue or think it's absolute crap.

On another note…who's absolutely elated that it's almost summer? I know I am. ;) I don't know when everyone gets out, but here in Michigan we get out mid-June. Mostly it's because we start school in early September because of a law we have around here…I know some people start in August, which really sucks a lot. Hopefully, though, everyone gets as much summer as possible, and it's a good summer! ^_^

That being said, the last book we're reading this semester is Taming of the Shrew. I'm basing this story off of that. Because everyone loves adapting Shakespeare, right? I _have_ seen 10 Things I Hate About You, and I'm probably going to be incorporating elements of both into this. But it won't be a complete Taming of the Shrew knock-off, and it won't be a complete 10 Things I Hate About You knock off. I'll be original…hopefully. *Cries*

**The Obligatory List of Non-Canon Human Names:  
>Denmark<strong>: Mathias Køhler  
><strong>Norway<strong>: Nikolai Sorenson  
><strong>Iceland<strong>: Eirikur Jameson

**Pairings:** Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: Too many to mention…Please go visit my profile, and under 'Favorite Ships' you will find a rather long list of APH pairings. If the pairing is on there, it's liable to appear…I'm not saying it will, because several pairings on that list contradict each other, but whatever you see has the potential to show up.

**Summary: **Northern High School: A cesspool of bigotry, cliques, and the drama they cause. Berwald Oxenstierna just wants to catch the attention of the lovely Tino Vainamoinen. Nikolai Sorenson, Tino's stepbrother, just wants to survive the last few weeks of the school year unscathed. And Mathias Køhler is pulled into a mess that he isn't quite sure he wants to get out of.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: The New Kid<strong>

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><p>Walking through Northern High School was intimidating at best. It was huge; four floors, sixteen hallways, no less than eighty rooms. Three gyms, two swimming pools, a theatre, a football field, a baseball field, a library to make several upper class institutions green with envy, a cafeteria, four courtyards, a senior lounge, and an entrance hall which included an almost-too cliché grand staircase outside, leading up to it.<p>

But it was not only these things that made Mathias Køhler incredibly nervous as he walked through the doors of his new school for the first time. No, it was the stares he was receiving from the hoards of students whom all seemed to be congregated to gawk as he walked through. For such a big school, this place had a rather small student body. Maybe it was only because the brightest and best (Supposedly) were invited to attend this school. Or maybe it was because tuition was so Goddamned expensive here. Either were reasonable explanations.

Although, Mathias thought as he stared at a trio of bumbling bleach-blondes, the latter is looking much more likely. Judging by the blank expression on some of the male population's faces, he could tell that they weren't exactly qualified to attend this school by their test scores, either.

Mathias could tell just by looking at the guy that the German kid in front of him, leading him towards the front office, was King of the Tight-asses. He'd introduced himself as Ludwig—just Ludwig. Mathias had no clue if that was a last name or first name, but didn't have any intention of being particularly close with the kid, and so didn't really ponder all that hard.

"This is the front office," said Ludwig, pointing to the left. Though the school looked old on the outside, inside it looked exceptionally modern. The front wall of the office was made of glass, and you could see the two secretaries clicking away in there. There was a hallway off to either side, and plaques above those. As far as Mathias could tell, one hallway lead to the Dean of Students and Vice Principal's offices, and the other hallway lead to the Councilors' offices, as well as the Athletic director's. The Principal had his own little office to the left of the main one, which was guarded by a secretary.

In the few minutes it took Mathias to gather this information by staring, Ludwig continued without even noticing that Mathias was in no way following. He only looked back when Mathias cried, "Hey! Wait!" And ran to catch up with him.

"Oh, sorry." Ludwig then picked up what he'd been saying, either not realizing or not caring that Mathias had no idea what he was talking about. Then again, that was partially his fault for thinking Mathias actually _cared _about the history of the school. All he needed was a little help finding his classes, and the hallway where his locker was located.

"Ah, not that this isn't…incredibly interesting," Mathias said, scratching the back of his head, "but…I need my schedule…"

"Mrs. Héderváry," said Ludwig.

Understandably, this statement held absolutely no importance or meaning in Mathias' mind, and so he just stared rather blankly at Ludwig and said, "Uh…huh?"

"Mrs. Héderváry," Ludwig said again, pointing towards the office. "You're a senior, right? She's your councilor. You'll be able to get your schedule from her. I can show you to your classes once you have your schedule, if you like…"

"Uhm…no thanks, I think I'll be able to find myself around," Mathias said, waving him off. Ludwig was nice enough, sure. But rather stiff, and to be honest Mathias really didn't want to have to follow him around like some lost puppy for much longer. Perhaps if he didn't behave so much like the New Kid, people would stop gawking so much.

As he walked back towards the office, the whispers about him finally started reaching his ears in the absence of Ludwig's droning, German-accented voice.

"Is that the new kid? The one who got expelled from Southern?"

"I hear he was expelled for stabbing another kid."

"Oh my God…did he die?

"No, but New Kid over there just spent the last year in Juvi."

"I know this guy whose friend's girlfriend is that guy's cousin…he told me, that he _ate a squirrel._"

"Yeah, everything but the tail."

Mathias sighed an rolled his eyes. His reputation preceded him, it would seem. It did always tend to. He wasn't sure when the rumors started; he'd moved schools all his life, an army brat until just recently. His mother had just divorced his father last year, and they moved back here to be with Mathias' grandmother. But around his fifth or sixth school, rumors started flying about why he switched schools all the time. Somehow, someone from his previous school always managed to contact someone at the next, and the rumors started before he even got there.

The squirrel was new. He wondered if it was some warped version of the 'Guinea Pig on a Stake' rumor that had been following him for a few years.

This would be his last school, most likely. He was basically only here to take his finals and then get as far away from the states of California, Nevada, and New Mexico as possible. He was planning to go back to Denmark, his birthplace, and attend college there. It wouldn't be easy, but he knew he would feel better once he'd put his grueling adolescent years behind him, and found a place where no one knew his name and he could start from scratch, for once.

When he stepped into the front office, he leaned over the desk of the first woman and smiled his charming smile at her. "Hello…" after a glance at her nameplate, Mathias looked back over, "Miss Engels. Could you point me towards Mrs. Héderváry's office, please?"

Miss Engels was quite the young woman, and she stared at him with a very deadpan look. "Around the corner. To the left. You're the new kid, aren't you? The one who transferred from Southern? I hear you're quite the juvenile delinquent, Mister Køhler."

Mathias' smile became strained. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear from the gossip mill, Miss. It yellows your teeth and makes your blood run green." Then, tipping an imaginary hat in her direction, he headed off towards Mrs. Héderváry's office.

Mrs. Héderváry appeared to be another younger woman, with chestnut brown hair, green eyes and a pleasing olive skin tone. She was typing furiously on a laptop computer, which was odd because there was a desktop computer on her desk that she was completely ignoring. But maybe she was just one of those 'I only trust my own equipment' people. All he knew was that when he knocked on the doorjamb, she barely took her eyes off the computer to examine him before she said, at length, "Just oooone second…I have to finish this paragraph…"

Well, okay then. Mathias gingerly stepped in the room, as if there were a couple of mine fields that were just waiting to explode, and sat down gently in the chair across from Mrs. Héderváry's desk. Immediately, he became annoyed with the chair. The seat was made of pleather. He hated pleather.

"Okay, thank you for waiting." He looked up, realizing that Mrs. Héderváry was no longer typing crazily, and her face was no longer hidden behind a computer. She smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah…I'm Mathias. Køhler." He handed her the identification card he'd gotten in the mail yesterday, and continued, "I'm a new student here. A senior."

"Oh, oh! So _you're_ the infamous new guy." She seemed to be amused by his notorious reputation, rather than believing of it. For, when she mentioned it, she winked before getting up out of her chair and retrieving some freshly-printed documents off the printer. "Huh. Nine schools in twelve years. Problems, parents, what?" She sat back down, and now did turn on her desktop. Mathias was rather confused, but didn't really feel like asking.

"Parents, I guess," Mathias mumbled, "My dad…he was in the air force…"

"General Blas Køhler, yes," Mrs. Héderváry muttered, nodding and pointing to the paper she held. "Yes, it says that right here. Army brat, I see. Or, rather, air force brat." She winked and continued putting his information into the computer, then brought up his schedule. "Let's see…Hmm…Well, I can't say your transcript isn't impressive. Your grades, anyway. Your behavioral examinations are…interesting, at least."

Mathias winced. He was very well aware that his behavioral and temperament testing were a twisting, turning roadmap of contradictions. But honestly, it just depended on how he was feeling that day, or how happy he was about where exactly his father had dragged him. In elementary school, he'd been a relatively happy kid. Until fifth grade, when they'd moved for a fourth time and Mathias had to leave a really good friend he'd made in New Mexico, for a small, strange school in Nevada attended almost entirely by evil little boys whose fathers were grooming them to be killing machines in the military. That, and a few shy little girls who hadn't wanted anything to do with him.

In middle school, they'd made him go to therapy and considered him borderline suicidal after he'd yelled at a councilor that he, "Sometimes just wish I would DIE! It would make everyone happier!" That was the mark in his record that everyone's eyes were drawn to.

But honestly, he'd been twelve years old. Did nobody realize that preteens were just _like_ that? Then again, the school had been a large, sterile environment in San Gabriel and that wasn't the type of school to take a chance and let boys be boys.

"Hmm…well, anyway, here's your schedule." Mrs. Héderváry handed him the paper she'd just pulled out of the printer, and said, "You're only taking core classes, except for mythology. That means you have four free periods, which isn't usual for seniors. A lot of them don't take electives both semesters."

"Senioritis," Mathias remarked, smirking. "I don't have it, but I just don't want to have to catch up in too many classes only to graduate in a month, you know?"

"Understood," Mrs. Héderváry said, nodding. "I wouldn't, either." Mathias watched her as she rolled back towards the file cabinet, and slid his file in.

"Well, Mr. Køhler, welcome to Northern High School."

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><p><strong>The Front Courtyard, 4:00 that Afternoon<strong>

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><p>Everything about Tino Väinämöinen was lovely, beautiful, and perfect. From his flawless, snow-white skin to his pale blonde hair, to his curvy and petite little body. Or so, that's what one Berwald Oxenstierna's opinion on the matter was. He'd developed quite the hobby of examining the little Finn from afar, when he could. Unfortunately for Berwald, Tino also happened to be utterly unattainable.<p>

Most of the student body was under the impression that Tino was either a complete, stuck-up brat (Not that there weren't plenty of them in that school excluding Tino) or painfully shy. The truth, Berwald had come to find, was just that the boy's father didn't really like him talking to people whom he hadn't known for a long time. A rule like that made it very hard to make friends, and especially to come across with his true, loving personality.

As far as he could gather, Tino's father was just very paranoid. No one really knew why, but they did know that Tino and his brother Nikolai were not allowed to date and, especially in the case of Nikolai, were not interested. It was hard for Berwald, to know this and simultaneously realize that A: Tino wasn't available, no matter what, and B: Tino wasn't interested in the slightest. Anyone who had eyes could see that Tino was receiving looks from Ivan Braginski, and no one wanted to get in-between that.

Ivan Braginski was the captain of the wrestling team, and rumor was he could mess you up pretty bad. He didn't seem like such a bad guy on the outside, but on the inside it was mostly confirmed that he was a ticking time-bomb of rage and insanity. They said it had something to do with the fact that his uncle, an Russian army veteran whom was known to his nephew, and his two nieces (Ivan's sisters) as General Winter, ran their house like a boot camp. Things like that did stuff to a boy.

Sighing, Berwald rested his head on his hand and stared at Tino. That poor boy, not even knowing the danger he was getting himself into just by looking so pretty within the eyesight of Ivan.

Berwald wouldn't go so far as to say Tino didn't know he existed. That sounded a little too melodramatic, and they _had_ talked on occasion. However, it wasn't enough to actually call each other friends, and Tino had his own clique (The popular, vapid kids that only liked him because he had a big house and his brother could drive) and Berwald had his. (Those kids in every school that aren't really a group, but are classified into one category because they all sit around, being silent and looking scary.)

But sometimes, when it was warm and sunny out, and they could wait for their respective rides on the patio instead of inside the school, Tino would sit at the same table as him and they would exchange a few words. Nothing profound; just a hello-how-are-you. That's all they really had time for, before Tino's brother would roll up in his second-hand blue Ford sedan, and tell Tino to stop breaking Dad's rules and get in the car. Tino would blush, and inform that he _wasn't_, before shyly bidding Berwald adieu and climbing into his brother' car.

"Hi, Berwald."

Berwald looked up completely surprised to see Tino sitting next to him. He'd been so caught up in his own thoughts—about Tino, no less—that he hadn't noticed the little Finn sneak up beside him and sit down. He stared for a long moment, before nodding. "'Lo, Tino."

"How have you been? I haven't talked to you lately. I should do that more." Had it been anyone else from Tino's clique, Berwald would have taken this as condescension and probably blown the statement off by getting up and walking away. But Tino seemed to being saying this in all sincerity, so Berwald let himself believe it, and let it alone.

"'kay."

There was an awkward silence—and their silences were always awkward, because Tino hated them and Berwald never knew how to fill them—before Tino said, "Prom coming up, huh? Excited?"

"Not goin'."

It must have been a trick of the light, because Tino didn't actually look _disappointed_ at that information, did he? And, well, if he did it was probably only because he felt sorry for Berwald. Missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and all. "Oh, that's too bad. Why?"

"No date. No tux," Berwald said, and shrugged. He hadn't really been looking forward to the prom in the first place. Just another social event where he'd stand a head over everyone and feel completely awkward. Spending the night as a wallflower was probably Berwald's least favorite thing to do.

"Hmm…well, I'd like to see you there," Tino giggled, patting Berwald's hand and making the Swede shiver slightly at the contact. "And a tux isn't that hard to find. Seriously, you should come. You only get one prom, and I promise if you come, I'll dance with you once."

For all its clique mentality and bigotry, Northern was a very progressive school. It wasn't usually frowned upon when two boys were in a relationship, or two girls. It was well-known that Tino was gay. Not so much for Berwald, but he didn't actively try to keep it a secret, either. Those who knew had asked, and those who did not, didn't know him and wouldn't care . Berwald's name didn't make it into the gossip mill very often.

Berwald tried to control his reaction to Tino's offer—stopping himself before he could look up too quickly, raising an eyebrow, trying not to make any face that would look threatening or angry. He was well aware that he was infamous for making odd faces when he was excited.

"Really?"

"Really!" Tino gave another big smile. "I'll save one of the slow dances, promise. But you've gotta promise you'll come, okay?"

Berwald nodded. "'kay."

Tino's brother chose that moment to walk bye. "Tino, stop talking to strange boys. You know what dad says."

"Nikolai, _Berwald's a friend_," Tino said, scowling at his brother. "And we were having a really nice conversation before you came by and decided to be rude. Dad never said anything about friends."

Nikolai only rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Tino. I'm riding home with Ice today, since Dad dropped us off this morning. You can either call Dad and get a ride, or you can ask one of your friends to drive you. _Not him_."

Tino's scowl only deepened. "Berwald doesn't even drive."

That was a lie, and Tino knew it. Berwald knew Tino had seen him drive to school in the mornings, and so he wondered why he would tell his brother that. Tino was usually respectful to his brother, unless the older boy was being particularly mean to him, and then it was a battle of who could be meanest. They liked to butt heads, those two.

"Hmm." Nikolai rolled his eyes and walked away, back over to his friend Ice. The boy's name was actually something like Eirikur, if Berwald remembered correctly, but Ice was the nickname everyone knew him by. It was a bit of a mystery, as to why the name had come about. Nikolai was always the icy one, so it stood to reason that it would be _his_ nickname instead of the simply shy boy who was his best friend. But he wasn't the one to come up with the nickname, and he figured there was a perfectly logical reason.

In their minds.

Once his brother was out of earshot, Tino looked back at Berwald and said, "If he knew you drove, he'd drag me with him and Ice and I don't want that."

Berwald nodded. "'course."

"But…I do need a ride," Tino muttered, biting his lip. "Care to help? We'll have to wait a little while, because if I get home before my brother he'll know I rode in some boy's car; most of my good friends are girls, and none of them drive."

Something told Berwald he shouldn't accept, but something about the way Tino was looking at him so sweetly just made him unable to not say yes. So he nodded, and stood up. "Wanna go t'the libr'ry w'me? W'can spend an hour there b'fore w'leave."

"Oh, okay," Tino nodded and stood up, wrapping his satchel back around his body as he did so, and nodded his head inside. "Come on."

Berwald waited until Tino was inside to smile in a slightly dopey way, and proceeded inside.

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><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

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><p>AN: As you've probably noticed, certain parts of this story take place at later times than others. In order to not make this confusing, I'll list the time and the location in the scene breaker, if the scene is not immediately subsequent to the one that just took place. If this gets confusing for you, please tell me and I'll help with that. But just so you know, the Mathias storyline is at the moment taking place about seven hours before the Berwald storyline. They'll catch up to each other in a few chapters, of course, but for the moment that's where they'll be.

You'll get into Nikolai's head next chapter. I just really wanted to get this started, because I knew if I waited any longer to post this, I would never bring myself to get around to it. That's just the way I operate. :/

So I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, guys!

-Lynn


	2. Chapter 2: The Appearance of the Troll

**Notes**: Thank you for the lovely reviews the first chapter, everyone! This week was kind of crazy, because my show premiered (It was a big success!) but now life is kind of back to normal, and I'll be able to update quite a bit faster than I have.

I just want you guys to know that I'm _always_open for suggestions, and if you have anything to suggest, please do! I'll take your comments to heart and really try to work them into the story. To be honest, I love to see your suggestions, and they really help me further the plot. So please review, and tell me your suggestions for the story. Oh, and I forgot to tell you guys about the cookie thing! T_T Oh well, it'll be in the bottom note, if anyone is interested.

**More Non-Canon human names**:  
><strong>Hong Kong<strong>: Xang (Pronounced 'shang' which sounds more like 'jang' with a Chinese accent) Kirkland

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: I'm quite sure I'm doing Hong Kong/Iceland now. Anything else, though, is still up for debate. Suggest to me your favorite pairings. ;) I'm undecided between FrUK and USUK at the moment, to be honest.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor to I own Taming of the Shrew, written by William Shakespeare, or Ten Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchstone Pictures. The only thing I own is the story below as you see it.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Appearance of the Troll<strong>

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><p><strong>The Front Office, 7:45 That Morning<strong>

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><p>Although Mathias was not incredibly sure he was especially enjoy being at this school, he figured there was no changing things now. So he stood up with a nod, and glanced out of the office. "So, uhm, I just go to my first class, now? Do I need a pass, or anything? I know the bell just rang…"<p>

"Well, you don't have a first hour scheduled, so you're okay," said Mrs. Héderváry. "But you probably _should_ have someone show you all your classes, so you at least know the way before you have to go at it on your own. Uhm…let's see…I know xang is here this hour, he always comes in and helps me in the mornings…Xang!"

A shorter Asian boy poked his head into the office a moment later and stared at her. "Yes, ma'am?"

Mrs. Héderváry gestured to Mathias and said, "This is a new student, Xang. Could you show him the layout and help him get to his classes today? I'll write you a pass so you're excused from any tardies today." As she said this, she pulled out the laptop which had previously been closed, and continued to type up whatever it was she had been working on before Mathias invaded her office and forced her to redirect her attentions.

Xang stood there for a long moment, before shrugging and saying, "Okay." He came over and set the files in his arms down on the edge of Mrs. Héderváry's desk. She reached out absently with one hand—the one she wasn't using to sip coffee, and with both eyes on her monitor—and tugged the files closer. She only glanced at them to make sure they were the right ones, before looking back. "Thank you, Xang. By the way, hon, what's a synonym for…wiggle?"

"Uh…writhe?" Xang suggested, picking a hair off his sleeve. The way they both acted, this seemed to be a typical occurrence.

"Hmm…that could work. Thank you."

Xang stood there, poised for a moment, as though waiting for another question. When he got none, he turned to the very confused Mathias and said, "Well, anyway, get up. Can I see your schedule? You're a senior, right?"

"Yeah, and, uh, here you go." Mathias stood up, glad to be out of the faded green pleather monstrosity, and handed Xang his schedule. The Asian boy scanned it for a moment, running his brown eyes over it for a long moment, before saying, "Well, it says here that you haven't scheduled yourself a lunch. Was that a mistake, or…?"

"No," Mathias said, shrugging. When he'd seen the option to schedule a lunch or not, he'd chosen not to. He could eat when he got home, and he didn't want to willingly submit to that torture—the special brand of torture that came from being surrounded by nine hundred other kids in any of three lunches that either hated you on principal, or took personal offense to some rumor about you that was in no way true. He was tired of it, and whenever possible, he didn't schedule himself a lunch.

"Hm, okay," Xang said. They walked out of the room, so as not to clog up the doorway to Mrs. Héderváry's office, and stopped only once they reached the lobby. "Okay, your first hour is a free period, so that means you don't have to come to school until eight-thirty, lucky…AP European History…and then you've got Calc…fourth is a free period for you, and usually free periods can be spent either in your year's courtyard, or in your case the senior lounge…and then your fifth is Mythology, sixth is AP American Lit, seven is your study hall, eighth is AP Advanced Biology…which is, like, the _advanced-advanced_ senior elective…Wow, you're sure smart."

Mathias shrugged. "I like to think so. My father was a really strict kind of guy; studies and military were all that mattered. Studies and military. He ran the house like a bootcamp, and if he was still around, I'd be enlisting next month, and you'd see JROTC on my schedule."

"So…where's your dad now?" Xang inquired, knitting his brows together. Obviously prepared to offer his condolences.

"The bastard knocked my mom around one too many times," Mathias said, shrugging and obviously not sensitive on the subject. "One day she picked up the phone and called the cops on his ass. He's in jail right now, and they've dishonorably discharged him from the Forces. In four-point-five years he'll get out and find a restraining order against him that basically says he can't live in the same state as Mom and me."

Xang whistled lowly. "That's…special."

"Isn't it?" chuckled Mathias, shaking his head. "Eh, well, putting that behind us. Where's this first class of mine?"

"Hmm…AP European History…that's taught by Mister Lorinatus. Third floor, this year…" Xang trailed off and turned towards the nearest stairwell, climbing two flights until he exited on the third floor and took a left. "I have him for sixth hour, actually…so I know just where his room is. And he's a pretty cool teacher. The teacher's assistant is a little weird, but I don't think you'll have him in your class since you're the advanced. But then again, I'm not in the dual teaching hour either, and Mr. Feliks—he has a last name, but it's something crazy-Polish and impossible to pronounce—still hands around, so…" He shrugs. "The weirder girls in my year—ours, I guess—think they're involved. And, I mean, Mr. Feliks flirts but Mr. Lorinatus kind of just…ignores him."

Mathias nodded and almost slammed into Xang as he stopped in front of a certain door and stared up at the plaque. Room 315, Mr. Lorinatus. Well, that was one classroom located. Four to go, and his locker. He also wouldn't mind knowing where the senior lounge and courtyard were.

For the next hour and a half, Xang led Mathias around the school and showed him all his classes, as well as the other locations he asked to be shown. It turned out his locker was on the second floor, in the English hallway.

His teachers were, for the most part…incredibly interesting. His Calculus teacher was a short blonde man named Mr. Zwingli—but Mathias only gained that from looking at the man's plaque, and the name on his schedule. For if you didn't call him sir, he glared at you until you corrected your mistake. Also, the man very proudly displayed a large version of his NRA membership card in a frame on his desk. At first, Mathias thought it may have been a ploy to scare particularly disobedient students. He quickly abandoned these thoughts after four people told him, within fifteen minutes, that said membership was certainly real. Apparently, the man's weekend activities consisted of polishing his guns, hunting, and picnicking with his sister.

His mythology teacher was Mr. Wang, and he ended nearly every other sentence with a noise-word (Mathias wasn't quite sure, it could have been both or neither) that sounded like 'aru'. He used it almost as the Canadians used their 'eh'. And though it was Norse mythology he was teaching, he seemed to enjoy going on long rants comparing Chinese legend and folklore to the stuff he was actually supposed to be teaching. It annoyed Mathias to no end, but he was told rather promptly by those willing to talk to him that Mr. Wang was the only Mythology teacher in the school.

Mr. Kirkland, a brash Briton, was his American Literature teacher. He seemed to really hate the fact that he had to teach the class. Apparently, although Mathias hadn't seen him do it in the one class he'd had with him so far, he had a habit of banging Mark Twain on the desk as hard as he could and going on rants comparing it to Dickens. Mathias hoped he wasn't around long enough to see this behavior.

Finally, Advanced Biology was his next hour. He was rather frightened for what he would encounter, and was not ashamed to admit it. If his previous teachers were this bad…who knew what kind of craziness he would run into in _that_ class.

The entire day, Xang had stood outside his classrooms and waited for him so he could help him get to his next class. They had fifteen minutes for passing time, which Mathias thought was rather long. But it was a much bigger school than he'd ever attended, and it probably _did_ take about fifteen minutes to get to your locker, go to the bathroom, and get to your next class. Not to mention, most people spent at least five of those fifteen minutes congregated around someone's locker and talking.

It was during one such passing time—the one between Mathias' study hall (Spent in the utterly impressive library, with Xang talking in his ear because lucky him, he and the Asian boy had the same study hall) and his Advanced Bio class—that Mathias first encountered the platinum blonde beauty whom would so captivate him for an eternity to come.

He was walking down the center of the access hall to the library, talking to a shorter white-haired boy. A cross barrette held the hair away from one eye, and Mathias saw a flash of dull navy before the boy's eyes were once again turned down into his book. Xang looked _very_ uncertain, and Mathias glanced at him. "Hey, Xang, do you know him?"

"Him?" Xang asked incredulously, his eyes widening as he stared at the blonde beauty Mathias was eyeing.

"Yeah, the one with the clip in his hair."

"Oh God. That's Nikolai Sorenson, Mathias. He's…don't even think about it. You know your reputation? His is ten times worse, and I'll tell you right now—those things are _true_. He's one of the most antisocial, _vile_ people you'll ever meet. There was this guy once, a sophomore…uh…Alfred Jones…Yeah, Alfred tried to touch his ass, right? And I mean, Alfred does that to everyone—it's a little joke. And, I mean, he won't do it if you tell him not to. But one time he tried to do it to Nikolai at some party or something—_The kid got kicked in the balls so hard that he couldn't walk for a week_. Seriously, they had to wheel him through here in a wheel chair. And I have it on good authority that the kid'll never have kids, now."

To Mathias, this sounded awfully similar to a few rumors circulating about him. And he knew just the kind of effect the gossip mill could have on a person. "Right. Because that totally sounds like something that's _not_ completely made up by some jackass kid who was pissed off one day."

Xang rolled his shoulders. "Okay, so it sounds fishy, but trust me…Nikolai Sorenson is a special brand of bitch, Mathias."

Rolling his eyes, Mathias stepped towards Nikolai, whom was now leaning against a row of lockers as his friend reached into what Mathias assumed was his, seeing as he'd just opened it. Coming up alongside the two boys, Mathias glanced over Nikolai's shoulder and realized that his eyes were fixed upon a mythology book.

"Mythology, huh?" Mathias chuckled, staring at the book.

Nikolai jumped and spun around to stare incredulously at Mathias. His book clamped tight to his chest, he stared up at Mathias' eyes, which hovered about seven inches above his own and narrowed his eyes. "Yes. And please leave me alone."

Ah, poor guy. He must be so tired of people getting on his case. Mathias could sympathize.

"Relax, I'm just asking a question." Mathias reached a hand up and patted Nikolai's shoulder. Or, tried to.

Suddenly, Mathias found himself pinned against the locker he'd been previously leaning against, his cheek against the cold metal and his arm twisted behind himself at a particularly odd and uncomfortable angle. He only realized what had happened when Nikolai released him with a growl of, "_Do not_ try to touch me."

Mathias was left to gape in astonishment at Nikolai's back as he walked away. Even he couldn't deny that he felt a little impressed by such a blatant display of strength by someone who looked so small. His friend, whom had not yet been named, lingered for a second to make sure that Mathias was okay. Obviously, he didn't exactly condone his best friend's behavior, for he gave a little sigh before following behind the other blonde.

Xang approached once he was sure Nikolai was gone, and rolled his eyes. "I told you. He's bad news."

"Eh…I've seen worse," Mathias said, shrugging. "I've been to high schools that are only a half-step above boot camp; those kids were way worse. That kid…Nikolai, you called him? Yeah, he's just had one too many bad experiences with douchebag boys, probably…but damn is he beautiful." He sighed and leaned against the locker, watching Nikolai—and his swinging hips—until he rounded the corner. "Hey, what about that white-haired kid? Who's that?"

"That was Eirikur Jameson, otherwise known as Ice," murmured Xang, and his eyes were suddenly distant. "You know, he's part albino? His skin has pigment, but his hair is white and his eyes are red-violet…They're really beautiful up close…And he's so, so smart…"

That drew a smirk and a nudge from Mathias. "Is that right? Sounds like you've got a thing for that guy."

Xang blushed. "I…even if I did, he'd never be interested."

Mathias shrugged. "You never know, buddy. Don't sell yourself short, yeah? I'm sure you've got _something_ he needs." With that, he pulled out his schedule and said, "Alright, my next class is Advanced Bio with Mr. Bonnefoy…"

"Oh boy." Xang smirked. "You've got quite an hour ahead of you. Come on, I'll show you. And, Mathias?"

"Huh?"

"It…really would be better for you, if you didn't get too interested in Nikolai. You'd just cause yourself a lot of heartache and trouble."

"Says you," chuckled Mathias, shaking his head. "But we'll see, Xang. We'll see."

* * *

><p><strong>5:00 PM, Sorenson-Väinämöinen Residence<strong>

* * *

><p>Ice lived about two blocks away, so Nikolai took the last leg of the walk home on his own. On the handle of the door was a note, addressed to his brother and himself. It was from his step-father, Tino's father, and it informed that he would be getting home late and they should make dinner for themselves tonight. Sighing, Nikolai crumpled the note in his hand and opened the door. Once the door was locked behind him, he tossed off his bag and clomped up the stairs.<p>

Their house was large, with two floors and four bedrooms. Their father was a lawyer, and he made very good money. Plus, they got checks from Nikolai's maternal grandparents every once in a while.

About ten years ago, Nikolai's mother had married Tino's father. Nikolai had never met his biological father, and Tino's mother died in childbirth. They were pretty close, for stepsiblings. Tino was a sweet kid, and Nikolai had always liked him a lot and found him a really good brother. Nikolai didn't even mind Benjamin, his step-father. Especially since the guy had performed the valiant act of taking in a child that wasn't even his, when Nikolai's mother died about five years ago. A lot of people wouldn't have done that, and Nikolai would have been put in the system had it not been for Benjamin.

But it was also glaringly obvious which of the two boys was Benjamin's favorite. He tried not to show it, but he knew that Tino was appreciated more. Tino was the one who got rewarded for every A on his report card, every reward given to him over the years. All Nikolai really got was a pat on the back and a, "Good job, son."

It was hard, to put it short. To be the less-favored child. And he knew he didn't have the perfect personality, and it was mostly his own fault, but he couldn't help it.

Groaning and flopping onto his bed, Nikolai buried his face in his pillow and tried not to think. And though his thoughts did wander away from that particular subject, they did find their way to a different, not exactly more pleasant thought. That new kid today, trying to feel him up.

Of course, Ice had tried to make him see reason. That's what Ice always did. "Oh, Nikolai, don't you think you're overreacting? I'm sure that's not his intention…"

But that _had_ to be it. No one touched Nikolai for any reason aside from some sort of sick joke-turned-sexual-harassment. First it was the shoulder, then they thought they were allowed to touch your chest. Then it became your hip, your ass, and everything in-between. Nikolai had been there before. Back when he'd been one of the popular kids in freshman year…and those stupid boys thought they could do everything and anything to you, and you'd just sit there and take it because you were some vapid airhead who'd sit still for anything as long as you remained popular…

Well, they'd underestimated Nikolai's sense of self-worth, it would seem. He hadn't sat still for that more than twice, and it had effectively robed him of his membership card to the popular clique. But Nikolai had never quite been able to bring himself to care.

He wasn't really quite sure how long he sat there, drowsily examining the obnoxiously bright sky outside. He still wasn't used to seeing the midday sun at five-thirty, after a winter of it being completely dark by no later than six-thirty. But when he glanced at the clock and realized it was six o'clock, he figured that Tino definitely should have been home by now, and pulled out his phone to text the other boy.

That was, until he heard a giggle from below his window. Raising onto hands and knees, he crawled over to the other end of the bed, stepped off of it, and immediately knelt on the window seat. This particular window overlooked the front porch, and though he couldn't see the actual porch due to the awning, he _could_ see his brother get out of someone's car and walk up the sidewalk. And that person get out of the car as well, jog to catch up to Tino, and grab his arm to hand him a book which Nikolai figured had almost been left behind.

Tino always had been forgetful.

A flash of annoyance tweaked the back of Nikolai's mind. He'd specifically _told_ Tino not to get a ride from that Swedish kid. Despite Tino's (Very obvious) lie, he knew Berwald had a car. And though he knew it wasn't good to judge a book by its cover, something just rubbed him wrong about the kid—about everyone that showed interest in his naïve brother. Even though Tino may have only been half a year younger, but Nikolai had always thought of him as rather too innocent for his own good. Especially when he was going to be turning eighteen in December. Nikolai didn't know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse that Tino had managed to avoid figuring out how the world worked for so long.

Now Tino was _hugging_ Berwald. Nikolai gritted his teeth. He really, _really_ didn't like this.

Though, Nikolai admitted, Berwald wasn't as bad as that Ivan kid. Ivan was…Nikolai shuddered. He didn't even want to think about it.

Finally, Tino said goodbye to Berwald and walked inside. Nikolai was out of his room and down the stairs before Tino was even fully in the door, and he glared at the younger boy from the top of the stairs. "What the _fuck_, Tino?"

Tino jumped and stared up at Nikolai. "Jesus Christ, Nikolai, you scared me!" One thing most people didn't know about Tino: when he got riled, he got quite the vulgar tongue in his head. It was a trait he and Nikolai shared.

"I don't care; what _in God's name_ were you doing with that kid, after I told you not to?" Nikolai demanded, his usually dull navy eyes alight with fury. "Seriously, Tino, I don't know why I even bother! I tell you things, try to keep you safe, and you completely disregard what I say! _Why_?"

"Because you're not the boss of me, Nikolai!" Tino cried, storming past the taller boy and throwing himself onto the first couch he came to in the living room.

"Well it's not as if Dad's around at all to do the job, Tino."

"I don't care! You're still just my brother, and you can't tell me what I can and can't do! And Berwald is only a _friend_, okay? Not every guy who looks at me wants to get into my fucking pants, contrary to popular belief!"

"Oh, _very mature_," Nikolai said, coming over to lean over Tino and glare down at him. "Seriously, Tino. I don't like that kid. He gives me a bad feeling. He does not want _just friendship_."

Tino stared at Nikolai with a very deadpan look in his eyes—it disconcerted Nikolai to realize that it was similar to the look in his own eyes all the time. It didn't last for long, though, because Tino looked away and grumbled, "You don't like _anyone_, Nikolai, and _everyone_ gives you a bad feeling. Seriously, even if I _did_ want to date him, there's no one else I could find that you'd like, either!"

"Well that's perfectly fine with me, because we're not supposed to be dating _anyway_."

Tino flinched. Oh, so he remembered that particular rule. Tino shook his head. "No, dad _said_ that we're not allowed to date until we graduate. We graduate in three weeks, Nikolai. And if we wait until graduation, we won't be able to go to prom."

"Dad never said we couldn't go to prom," Nikolai said, raising an eyebrow. "He only said we weren't allowed to go to prom _with_ anyone, and we both had to go."

Tino snorted and rolled his eyes. "And guess who isn't going? Oh, that's right: you." He got up and walked into the kitchen, shaking his head. "Thanks a lot, Nikolai. Seriously, couldn't ask for a better brother—you're the greatest!" All of this was said in the utmost sarcasm, and once he'd finished grumbling he flounced up the stairs and slammed his door. Nikolai rubbed his temples, and flopped onto the sofa.

To be honest, he wasn't at all sure that it was the right thing to do. But he could think of no other way to keep Tino safe, and safe did not always go hand-in-hand with happy. Besides, he _really_ didn't want to go to prom. Being stuck in a room with twelve-hundred other people that he really couldn't stand in the slightest, with the exception of about three, was not his idea of a good time.

But, it really was painful to see Tino pouting like that sometimes.

* * *

><p><strong>8:30 PM<strong>

* * *

><p>Their father wasn't home until almost nine o'clock, and Nikolai had already made dinner—not that Tino did much more than come down, push it around his plate, mash up the potatoes, and go back upstairs. He figured the other boy was still mad, and would be for a while. There was nothing for it, and trying to talk to him would only make him angrier. Tino was as sweet young thing, but when he was truly pissed off, it took him forever to get over it.<p>

Nikolai had just finished washing the dishes when Benjamin walked in the door. He stared at the table for a second, at Nikolai's rolled up sleeves and still-wet hands, and at the dishwasher before saying, "You and your brother already ate?"

"Yes. That's what your note said to do."

"I know," said Benjamin, setting his briefcase down. "Just making sure. What did you have?"

"I broiled some chicken and nuked some potatoes in the microwave," mumbled Nikolai, shrugging. "Tino kind of mangled his potato, but he didn't even touch his chicken so I wrapped it up. It's still in there if you want something to eat. I can warm it up for you."

Benjamin rose an eyebrow. "What's wrong with Tino?"

"Oh, nothing…he's just pissed off about something stupid."

"Like?"

Nikolai sighed. He'd really been hoping to avoid just this conversation, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it wouldn't be possible. So he'd been mentally preparing himself to explain it in a way that wouldn't broadcast the blame on himself, but wouldn't let Tino take too much of it either. He _really_ wanted to blame the whole thing on that Berwald kid, but he also knew that logic like that wouldn't make any sense to his father, whom had never met the boy.

"Well, okay…Tino got a ride home from some kid in our year named Berwald Oxenstierna. And I don't think that Tino realizes it, but this Berwald kid has a crush the size of Texas on him. And, I mean, I guess…I admit, the kid isn't as bad a guy as I keep trying to tell Tino he is, but I'm just not comfortable about it. And he's all of a sudden really gung-ho about going to prom, and I have to wonder if Berwald asked him or something. But he's not saying, and…"

"Well, are you going to prom?" asked Benjamin. He took a glass down, poured himself a glass of water, and leaned against the counter.

"No," Nikolai said, shaking his head. "I lack all willingness to go."

Benjamin shrugged. "Well then Tino isn't going either. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is."

"I know, and I don't really think it's a good idea for him to go either, but…" Nikolai sighed. "It would make him really happy. And he works really hard. And even though I don't like the idea, I think he should at least be rewarded for all he's done in school, and that's what prom is. It's a little 'Congratulations, you made it, now party' for the seniors. And if anyone deserves that, it's Tino. I mean, he has a _free ride _waiting for him at three different schools, Dad…Couldn't you make an exception…just once?" He neglected to mention that he, himself was valedictorian and, by all rights, he should be going too. It was kind of an obligation of the top five girls and boys in the class, whom were nominated for prom committee. But that wasn't important. This was about Tino.

"No," Benjamin glanced over at Nikolai and said, "If you want him to be able to go, you're just going to have to go yourself. Otherwise, don't ask for a loophole. Okay? Now I've got a lot of work, so try not to be too loud tonight."

"But…Dad! Come on…I…I _can't_ go to prom, okay? I would be…persecuted the entire time! And I _know_ Tino is your favorite, _please_ just make an exception this once? I'll _never_ ask you for anything else if you do this for Tino, okay?

"Nikolai, I've made my decision, and it's final. Either you both go, or neither of you do."

"But—"

"Nikolai Lukas Sorenson, if you don't drop the subject right now so help me I will…"

"Okay, okay! It's dropped…I just…" Nikolai sighed, and shook his head. "Never mind. Goodnight."

Going upstairs, it was all Nikolai could do to stop the pinpricks in his eyes. He hadn't cried in four years, and he wasn't about to start doing it now. But it was hard…because the think that upset him wasn't the fact that his father had pretty much completely dismissed him.

It was the fact that he hadn't even bothered to deny that Tino was his favorite son.

* * *

><p><strong>Senior Courtyard, 10:40 the Next Day<strong>

* * *

><p>"Hello, Tino."<p>

Tino jumped about a mile in the air, and flipped around to stare at the person behind him. Ivan Braginksi.

Ivan was a tall, _tall_ senior whom Tino had known since kindergarten. They had a rather long, suffered acquaintanceship behind them, and Tino was looking forward to nothing more than getting rid of the other boy when he started going to school in Boston in the fall.

Sometimes, Tino still couldn't believe that _Harvard _had given him a free ride. Of course, a 4.5 GPA, and being the salutatorian of arguably the most prestigious school this side of the Mississippi didn't hurt, but every time he thought about it, it gave him butterflies and made him feel lighter than air. All of his worries were gone. He'd be able to ride a degree from Harvard wherever he went.

But wait, Ivan was still talking to him. The boy had a tendency to be very clingy, and if he realized you weren't listening to him, he went into something resembling a childlike rage. So Tino quickly tuned in, lest he have an angry Ivan on his hands for the rest of the day—he had to sit next to the guy in Newspaper.

"…and you're going to prom, da?"

Tino felt a shoot of sadness, and a remnant of the fury he'd had last night go through him, as he shook his head. "Ah, no. My father won't allow it, unless my brother comes. And I think we all know that the day Nikolai considers going to prom is the day Hell freezes over and pigs take flight, so…" he sighed and shook his head. He'd really been hoping his father would consider letting him go, especially since he'd told Berwald that he would save a dance for him, if he came. Now he had to tell the poor Swede that he wouldn't be able to come, after all.

And he'd really kind of wanted to dance with Berwald…

It was funny, really. Everyone thought Berwald was scary, and he could be—he had one of those faces that always looked like it was glaring at you. But when you looked past him, he was incredibly handsome. And he was really so very nice—Tino had engaged in conversation with the Swede enough times to know that very well. And if he wasn't so unsure over whether Berwald liked him or not (And were it not for his father's stupid rule…) he would have asked him to.

"Ah, too bad," Ivan sighed. "I was hoping to ask you to come to it with me."

"Oh," Tino squeaked. Was Ivan trying to ask him out? Oh dear, oh dear…There was no way he could say no to Ivan! The boy was violent in the extreme…Giggling nervously, Tino said, "Well, if there's any way you think you can convince Nikolai to go to the prom, then be my guest…but until then…" Tino shrugged. "I'm sorry, Ivan!" Then, quickly, he ran off.

Ivan stood there for a few minutes, glaring at the tree trunk in front of him and trying to figure out how to get the elder brother of his crush to go to the prom, so he and Tino could go together like he _knew_ Tino wanted to…

Then his eyes landed on a certain new student, and a thought came back to him.

Wasn't there a new rumor circulating that the delinquent of a new kid was interested in Tino's shrew of a brother? And with some monetary persuasion…Ivan felt certain he would find a way to succeed in getting Nikolai to go to the prom.

Utterly pleased with his deduction, Ivan giggled, "Perfect…"

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Ah, Ivan, don't giggle like that! It gives the little children nightmares~

Well, I hope you liked this chapter. I know some people were disappointed by where the last chapter ended, but hopefully this was a bit better and ended in a bit better of a place. Also, I'm developing the SuFin plotline a lot faster than the DenNor one, and I realize that. But that relationship is supposed to be developed a bit faster, and you'll see why later. For now, though, I hope you're okay with that. ^_^

Thanks for reading; I'll have the next chapter as soon as humanly possible!

**EDIT**: It's come to my attention that I made a few huge errors when I first posted this chapter. Firstly, I placed the tittles in Hungary's name above the wrong letters, and for that I'm very sorry. I didn't realize that I was doing that—I programmed my Word processor to immediately place the tittles in when I wrote the name out straight, and I must have never caught my own typo, or it looked okay to me or something. I'm terribly sorry about that.

I've also fixed my typo with Iceland's first name, changing it from Erickur to Eirikur. I'm just used to typing it with the C-K, and I should have caught it but I forgot to beta last night before I posted.

Also, I realize albinism isn't genetic, and it can't be passed down, and also that you can't be part-albino. Xang was just sprouting shit out his ears—he's one of those kids who's intentions are pure, but the execution is wrong. It'll come up again later, and I'm sorry I was so unsuccessful in explaining that.

It was also mentioned by a reviewer that Iceland doesn't have violet eyes. In actuality, that's his manga description. I choose to use the manga description for the characters, because the anime coloring, frankly, bugs me. That's also why you'll see that Finland has violet eyes and Italy (If ever he's mentioned) has auburn hair.

Finally: Iceland's last name. A reviewer mentioned that it should be Jamesson, not Jameson. However, when you consider that Iceland's family has, in this story, probably been in America for quite some time, they probably Americanized it. People did that back in the thirties and forties. However, if it bugs you guys too much, I'd be perfectly willing to change it.

It really made me feel dejected to be accused of not caring about my stories. I'm sorry for my mistakes, and I'll definitely fix them when pointed out to me, or at least explain why they happened, but please…don't accuse me of not caring. I'm not out to offend anyone, especially in this family where the very national pride of some people is put on the pedestal for author's free reign. I've never been anything but cautious. And I'm very, very sorry. I didn't mean to make anyone angry. I'll be more careful from now on, and the next chapter will, hopefully, have less glaring mistakes.

-Lynn


	3. Chapter 3: Some Kind of Bet

**Notes**: Aw! You guys are too good to me! Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews for the second chapter; you guys really are the sweetest! Nine reviews last chapter; that's completely amazing! I honestly didn't expect to get more than four! And I'm really glad that most of those reviews were positive, and that you guys said you were interested! I'll try to keep it interesting, guys, I promise! So please, enjoy the next chapter!

And I'm sorry this update took longer than the other one. I got terribly sick on Friday night, and I only started feeling better Sunday night. So I couldn't really type until Monday. But thank you for being so patient, and continuing to review! It's so sweet, and it really made me feel better when I got all those reviews! It assisted my recovery very well. ^_^

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: I very heavily considered USUK, but unfortunately I chose to make Arthur a teacher last chapter. Teacher/student relationships rather squick me out, so I really didn't want to do that. So there will be hints of FrUK, and maybe some AmCan. I'm not entirely sure yet. Also, I'm sure you've all noticed the Hong Kong/Iceland undertones by now. Other than that, I'm still open for suggestions.

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, mentions of underage drinking, idealistically sensitive material, swearing

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor to I own Taming of the Shrew, written by William Shakespeare, or Ten Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchstone Pictures. The only thing I own is the story below as you see it.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Some Kind of Bet<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Friday Two Weeks later; 10:25 in the Senior Courtyard<strong>

* * *

><p>Fourth hour free period, and Mathias sat down against a bit oak tree in the senior courtyard, pulling out his binder and filing through it. Calculus really liked to kick his ass, but he was far from incapable of doing it—after all, there were easier math classes to take senior year, and if he couldn't do it, he wouldn't take it. No matter <em>how<em> good it looked on a transcript.

But at times like these, it really was troublesome. No one wanted to sit outside, on a beautiful day during their free period doing calculus homework. He'd attempted to do it the night before, but only got halfway done due to a strict eleven o'clock bedtime. His mother had kept few of his father's rules, wanting to rid the man from the house as much as possible, but the eleven o'clock bedtime was one that she kept. And Mathias had learned long ago not to argue when it came to those rules. During his father's reign as household head, you only had to talk back once to find out why you should _never_ do it again.

Mathias looked up, intending to lean his head back against the tree and rest his neck for a moment. Instead, however, the corner of his eye caught a flash of platinum blonde. All at once, he whipped his head to the side (Which probably was not the best idea, according to the joints in his neck which protested heavily) and smiled when his suspicious proved confirmed. Sitting at a patio table with several books piled up around him, sat Nikolai Sorenson.

It was really kind of inconvenient, the way Mathias' heart skipped a beat when he laid eyes on Nikolai. But that didn't stop it from happening, nor from him impulsively leaning his head on his hand and sighing, like some middle school girl with a crush.

However, Mathias maintained it wasn't his fault—Nikolai was just extremely…beautiful. There was no other word for it. From his deep blue eyes to the hair that was such a complete contrast. Mathias thought it was utterly adorable when he adjusted the clip in his hair almost absentmindedly and rubbed an eye, no doubt tired from staring at too-small text against too-white paper for so long.

Nikolai's head twitched to the side and caught side of Mathias, scowled to himself, and turned his head back. Feeling sheepish, Mathias turned his head back down, too. That was the third or fourth time in the last week that Nikolai had caught Mathias watching him in their shared free period, and Mathias could tell the other blonde was getting very tired of it. He probably would be, too, if a strange boy with a scandalous reputation was staring at him across a large courtyard.

It was either stop staring, or go over and actually talk. And though their first encounter had been disastrous, Mathias figured he'd just come across the wrong way. If he came from a slightly different angle, and actually introduced himself, Nikolai would probably react much better.

With that thought in mind, Mathias got up and pulled his books into his arms. Walking over to Nikolai, he almost tripped over some creepy-looking blonde kid with glasses, whom was sitting with a smaller blonde boy. They had both been staring at the table Nikolai was sitting at, before Mathias tried to commit bodily harm to himself on the bespectacled boy's foot, and Mathias wondered what all that was about. They also happened to be hiding half-under another table, which is why Mathias hadn't noticed them.

"Sorry," Mathias said, scratching the back of his head. "But, ah, tell someone you're down there, yeah?"

"Oh, sorry," one said, the smaller one, while the creepy one just shrugged. Then the one that spoke giggled, and glanced at his companion. "We were, ah, hiding." A loud snort, and he doubled over to push his face in the grass and laugh.

"Oh…kay…then…" Leaving the two boys to enjoy their eccentricities together, Mathias continued walking towards Nikolai's table. He vaguely noticed the two boys shoot out from under the table and through the open sliding glass door that lead back into the hallway, but that wasn't what he was paying attention to. Because Nikolai had just seen him, and those beautiful navy blue eyes were meeting his own. Glaring, but still; it meant Nikolai was looking _at_ him instead of _through _him, which he tended to do to everyone constantly.

"Come to grope me again?" Nikolai muttered, shaking his head and folding up his books. Obviously intend on getting up and moving somewhere far away from Mathias. "I saw you staring at me, by the way, and I don't even want to know what you're thinking in that _obviously _insignificant mind of yours. Just know that the answer to whatever it was is, 'Not in a million years.'"

"Uhm…heh…Not exactly," Mathias muttered, scratching the back of his neck and chuckling. Not at himself or Nikolai, but to alleviate the awkwardness of the conversation. The attempt, however, turned out rather ineffective when the chuckle itself came out more as a nervous titter. "I, ah, came to apologize for the other day."

Nikolai continued to pack up, but he cocked his head to the side and moved a bit slower, which Mathias took as a good sign. He sat down on the padded chair next to Nikolai so they were on the same level, and the other boy may not feel as threatened.

"I, uhm, didn't realize that you'd…react that way," Mathias mumbled, again scratching the back of his neck. "And, I probably should have been a bit more clear with my intentions…I'm sorry if I, you know, freaked you out too bad or anything. I didn't mean to, really."

For a moment, Nikolai looked as though he was simply going to get up and walk away. He even swung his bag onto his shoulder and rested a hand on the arm of his chair, ready to prop himself out of it. But at the last second—and it appeared as though this was against his better judgment, for he closed his eyes, looked heavenward and sighed—he settled back down and met Mathias' eyes. "Why were you trying to touch me in the first place? I don't know you, and you don't know me."

Mathias rolled his shoulders in something that may have been a shrug, but at the same time could have been an action of defensiveness. "I guess I'm just…a touchy person. And you looked angry, so I went to pat your shoulder so you'd know I wasn't gonna do anything to you. I know what my reputation says."

"Trust me, I'm the _last_ person you want to bitch and moan to about shitty reputations," Nikolai remarked, raising an eyebrow. "Have you by chance heard any of the stuff they say about _me_?"

"Damn near all of it," Mathias replied, this time with a slightly more real chuckle. "It's amazing what people are willing to spew at you when you don't even ask. And, hey—is it true that you kicked that one kid in the balls so hard that he couldn't walk?"

"Did you really spend a year in juvi?" Nikolai inquired, raising a patronizing eyebrow. "Two can play at this game, Dane."

Here, Mathias had to raise his eyebrows. He would have never expected Nikolai to recognize his accent. It was too slight, and most people took him for Midwestern. "How did you know I was Danish?"

"That's for me to know, and you not to find out," Nikolai replied, standing up for real now. "And not that it hasn't been _utterly pleasant_, but my free period ends in ten minutes and I've got a locker on the fourth floor. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going."

"Hey, wait," Mathias said softly, grabbing Nikolai's wrist without thinking. The other boy whipped back around and glared at Mathias, and he quickly blurted, "Go to the movies with me on Saturday!" without much thought between his mouth and the open air.

Nikolai stood there, just staring for the longest period of time. Then he yanked his wrist out of Mathias' grip, narrowed his eyes, and growled, "You're not fucking funny, you know that? You're here for a week and you think you can trick me into shit like that? Well think again; I've been around the block, and I know what you're up to. Think again if you _ever_ thought that you could make a fool out of me just by batting your eyelashes, taking me out, and then embarrassing me."

Then he was gone. And Mathias was left to wonder just _what_ had just happened.

Before he could ponder too much, however, another body plopped itself down right beside him. And, due to the size of this body (It was very apparent that this person was large; even out of just Mathias' peripheral vision) and the fact that it practically blocked out the sun, Mathias couldn't really bring himself to ignore the new presence. Glancing to the side, he saw a tall, muscular body sitting there smiling at him. And the smile was sweet—too sweet, for someone of that stature. It was very childlike, and incredibly eerie. Mathias was already getting a bad feeling, before the body even spoke.

"_Privet, komerade_," he said, still smiling creepily. Mathias gained the impression that the boy probably didn't speak English all that well—probably only knew enough to get through school. Slipping into your native language to introduce yourself, or greet someone was something that only very novice English speakers did. Mathias should know—his mother couldn't really speak English very well. They spoke Danish at home, because his mother had never been good at English, even though they taught it at schools in Denmark.

"Uhm…hi," Mathias mumbled, raising an eyebrow. He had very, very limited knowledge of Russian, but it didn't take a native speaker to know the guy had just said something along the lines of, "Hey buddy."

"My name is Ivan," he said, holding out one monstrous paw of a hand. "I gather you are new to this school."

"That's right, yeah," Mathias said, shaking hands with the other boy. Ivan had a pair of too-big violet eyes that seemed to stare into your very soul, and freeze it at the same time. It was incredibly disconcerting, and Mathias really wished the other boy wouldn't stare so intently at him. But there as nothing for it, and…maybe the boy was just trying to be friendly?

Then again, the guy—Ivan—had a demeanor that just reeked of, "I only speak to you if I want something from you." And that kind of thing was hard to ignore. He didn't seem like the 'take pity on the new kid' type.

"Uhm, Mathias," the Dane eventually said, when Ivan let go of his hand which proceeded to throb with the reintroduced circulation. They spent a few awkward moments staring at each other—well, it was awkward for Mathias, anyway. He was entirely certain that Ivan was completely oblivious to that—before Mathias continued, "What can I, uh, do for you, Ivan?"

Now Ivan broke into a satisfied grin. Mathias got the distinct feeling of having just walked into a trap. "Well_, komerade_, you've surely been noticing that Sorenson boy, correct?"

"Uhm…yes," Mathias said, scratching the back of his neck. Ivan wasn't just about to tell him to back off, was he? Surely schoolyard drama like that didn't _actually _happen? He didn't really know, because his whole life he'd been attending military schools and going to boot camps, but he kind of thought there was a difference between preteen fiction, and reality.

Ivan smiled. "Wonderful."

This, though, came as even more of a surprise. "Uhm…okay…?"

"Please take my, ah, investment in your efforts," Ivan said, smiling and holding something out towards Mathias. He glanced down, and his eyes boggled when he realized that Ivan was trying to shove a fifty dollar bill towards him. What in the world did this guy think he was doing?

"Whoa! What are you doing? This isn't some kind of bet, man; I'm not like that! The only reason I'm talking to Nikolai is because…he seems lonely, and…I think he could use a friend."

"Hmm. Yes, but I do not think you understand, _komerade_," Ivan giggled, pushing the bill into Mathias' jacket pocket against his will. "I am trying to get Nikolai's younger brother—Tino—to go to prom with me. And the thing that is in the way of that is his brother, Nikolai. I need someone to get Nikolai to come to prom, so I can take Tino as well. And you seem to be the only candidate, because everyone else in the school seems to hate, or be afraid of Nikolai."

"Yeah, but, if Nikolai doesn't want to go, I can't make him…" Mathias said, shaking his head and taking the money out. "Really, I can't accept this. I—it's dirty money. Take it back."

Ivan reached out, and grabbed Mathias' hand in a crushing hold. The Dane yelped, as Ivan's eyes got very dark and his smile became forced and even more creepy. "Perhaps I did not make this clear enough, _komerade_. Either you figure out a way to _make_ Nikolai go to prom, or I do it _for_ you. And it will not be pleasant for either of you, I can assure."

Mathias gasped and his eyes widened, and before he could reply Ivan got up and walked out of the courtyard.

"Once again," Mathias muttered to himself, as the bell rang and those in the courtyard flooded out, "What the _fuck_ just happened?"

* * *

><p><strong>Earlier that Week: Wednesday at 9:30 AM, Library Access Hallway<strong>

* * *

><p>Much to Berwald's pleasure (And slight confusion, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth) he and Tino had started seeing a lot more of each other in the ensuing fortnight since that first ride home Berwald had given him. They sat together at lunch more often than not, having only recently realized that they shared a lunch. They also had second hour study hall together, which they'd known beforehand, and a shared free period as well. As Tino usually spent these in the courtyard, and Berwald usually spent them in the senior lounge, they hadn't known this either.<p>

But the point wasn't that they _shared_ these hours. After all, it had been so the entire year and hadn't mattered much. No, what mattered was that now Tino was willingly seeking him out. The day after that ride home, Tino had come up to him in their shared study hall, smiled, and plopped down beside him. The day after, they'd run into each other on the way to their respective haunts for free period, and Tino had managed to drag Berwald along with him when he found out that it was his free period, too.

Tino had even started meeting him in the halls between classes to converse. It had gotten to be so much of a habit that, when Tino didn't show up at their usual meeting place for free period after almost twenty minutes, Berwald got worried. Fifteen minutes was usually enough for anyone to get where they needed to be in the school—and teachers weren't so evil as to schedule someone with two classes on opposite sides of the school form each other consecutively—and that Tino hadn't shown up yet was sure worrying.

Just as Berwald was beginning to consider the worst—fell down the steep English hall staircase and broke a leg, puking in the toilets as we speak, got cornered by Ivan, got tired of _Berwald_—Tino appeared around the corner, huffing and puffing with a red face and shining eyes. And while it wasn't the worst—at least Tino was here, and appeared to be physically intact—there was definitely something wrong.

"Sorry, Berwald, I had to talk to M-Mrs. Nielsen," Tino muttered, looking down and shoving a piece of paper into his satchel.

Mrs. Nielsen? Well, that was a name Berwald recognized from his own classes. Tino and he had different teachers for the most part, mostly because Tino all AP classes and Berwald took normal, run-of-the-mill core curriculum. But Mrs. Nielsen was the Swedish teacher.

At Northern, their goal was to prepare you for college. All the way from ninth grade to twelfth, that was what they did. Which was why the name of the school was _technically_ called Richard Northern Early College. But most people didn't understand what an early college was, so most of the students just said they attended Northern High School.

Because of their qualification as an early college, they gave kids the option of either following the normal core classes pathway all through school, or choosing a 'major' in sophomore year. Berwald chose to stay with the core classes. His skill was carpentry, and crafting wasn't one the school offered as a major. They had fine arts classes, as well as visual art, but no crafting classes aside from first, second, third, and fourth year shop. Then again, it was a bit of a lost art in this area.

But Tino _had_ chosen to take the major route. He was majoring in foreign languages. He wanted to be a translator for the government when he grew up, and due to his Finnish upbringing he already knew Finnish. Aside from that, the school offered Spanish, French, German, Russian, Chinese, Japanese, Dutch, Swedish, Italian, Arabic and Greek classes.

As far as Berwald knew, Tino was trying to get a little flavor of every language group and so was taking Spanish, German, Russian, and Swedish in addition to Finnish and the usual English. It was a lot of languages in one head, but Tino claimed he was able to keep track of them all.

Or, he _had_ claimed. He seemed to be incredibly troubled by whatever it was that his Swedish teacher had told him.

"What's th'matter?" Berwald murmured. Tino didn't answer right away, instead choosing to hurry along to the library so he didn't have to meet Berwald's eyes fully. But, eventually—Once they'd walked into the library and Tino had done everything he could _possibly_ do to avoid Berwald's gaze, including take out and put back in several books—Tino did meet his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, "I'm getting a B in Swedish."

Berwald blinked. "And?"

"What do you _mean_ and?" Tino said, his eyes getting wide as if Berwald had completely dismissed him. Which he had, in a sense, but Berwald didn't understand the significance of it. Berwald got B's quite often, and his mother was satisfied as long as his grades didn't drop below a C. She knew her son wasn't the smartest kid ever, but she knew he wasn't dumb, either. She didn't push him to his limits, or underestimate him.

"Well…s'not a _big_ deal, is it?" Berwald asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's a fucking huge deal!" Tino nearly shrieked, and suddenly _everyone_ was giving them dirty looks, and the librarian was glaring at them in such a way that said Berwald should definitely get the distraught Tino to a safer location for hysterical screaming. Grabbing Tino's arm gently but in a firm grasp that he couldn't soon escape from, Berwald led him out of the library and into a side hall of the library access hallway. All that was down here were several janitor's closets, but it went rather deep. They could go to the back of it, and no one would even know they were there.

Which is exactly what Berwald did, leading Tino to the back while the poor Finn looked utterly miserable the entire time.

"Now," Berwald said, gently as he turned around to lean against the wall and Tino slumped against the opposite side of the hall. "Y'wanna tell me what th'matter is?"

"I already told you," Tino said moodily.

"Calmer, I mean. N' explain a bit more. I dunno what th'huge deal is. B's a B. Not great, but…not horrible, either."

"A B is the difference between a 4.5 and a four-point…God knows what! All I know is my grade will fall, and I might get my salutatorian status taken away from me! And I _can't have it_ taken away from me, Berwald! That title is my entire existence for the rest of my life! No salutatorian, no scholarship, _no Harvard_, no college at all! My family isn't that well of, Berwald! The recession hit hard! We were only able to keep the house because my grandparents own it. If we'd had to pay a mortgage, we would have been foreclosed on! My dad isn't getting cases like he used to; no one can afford to pay a lawyer anymore! And, the only way Nikolai and I are going to be able to go to college, is by riding our grades there. We've _always_ known that. That's why we're the two highest. Nikolai's valedictorian; he's head and shoulders above the rest. The only person that could question him is me, and I'm going to loose my title to _God damned Eirikur Jameson_ if I can't get an A in Swedish!

After that, Berwald had no idea what to say. Instinct was telling him to go hug Tino; it was what the Finn wanted him to do. But it would be terribly awkward, and it wasn't Berwald's place to assume what Tino wanted. Even if it did look like all he wanted in the world, at that moment in time, was a hug and several Everything's Gonna Be Okays.

"You just…don't understand," Tino whispered, and Berwald could suddenly see how people thought he was bitchy. When you assumed people didn't understand your woes simply because you were in two different situations, you tended to come across that way. And Berwald knew Tino didn't mean it, but that didn't make the flare of irritation that flared in the back of his mind go away.

"'s not that," Berwald mumbled, stepping closer. "I just…I don't know what t'say, t'make y'feel better."

"That I'm overreacting."

"Well, y'are."

"Oh, shut up."

Berwald chuckled slightly, for he'd seen the quirk in Tino's lips. "Well, 's what y'asked fer."

"I didn't mean it," Tino said, giving a watery chuckle and stepped a bit closer as well. He stared at Berwald for a moment, his eyes moving up and down Berwald's body. The Swede wondered what he was doing, before Tino took a shaky breath and slowly wrapped his arms around Berwald's shoulders. Berwald was shocked for a moment, but when Tino nuzzled his chest, he found his own arms coming up to wrap around Tino's shoulders and pat his back.

Tino breathed against his chest, "I just…I don't know what to do, Berwald…Mrs. Nielsen said that I can retake the test, but if I don't get some help, I'm just going to get the same grade. I've studied over and over, but there's just something that doesn't click in my mind…I've even asked my dad to help, because he learned Swedish in school, too, but he's not good at languages like I am."

"Well…there's still one opti'n," Berwald remarked, and moved his arms down to embrace Tino tighter, around the small of his back. Hopefully the little Finn didn't think he was trying to feel him up.

"What?" Tino uttered, miserably into Berwald's chest.

"I could tutor ya," Berwald murmured, pulling back to look into Tino's violet eyes. "Wouldn't be a problem for me. S'my first language. Whatever yer problem is, I can prob'bly help with it."

"Oh, Berwald…I couldn't ask that of you," Tino murmured, turning his eyes down and shaking his head. "I…I couldn't take your free time away from you like that."

"'s not like I do anything with it," Berwald remarked, shrugging and waving it off with one large hand. "'sids, this is more important. I want ta, 'kay?"

Tino took in a big sigh, and let it out while crossing his arms and leaning once more against the wall. He seemed to consider the whole thing very hard for a few, agonizingly quiet minutes. Then he looked up through his bangs and said, "Fine. But…at least let me pay you, alright? It's the least I can do for your troubles. I have a little money to spare that I wasn't planning on using for anything."

"Don' need yer money, T'no."

"Oh, but Berwald!" cried Tino, shaking his head. "I—"

"Won't take it."

"Fine. But if I pass the test, you've gotta let me give you something in return, okay?"

Berwald was about to say that Tino could pay him back in sweet kisses, but then caught himself at the last second. That would have been extremely awkward, and he'd just won himself a way to spend a lot more time around Tino. He didn't want to jinx it.

"Hm…'kay."

"Great!" Tino smiled and bounced into the balls of his feet, looking incredibly pleased. "We can start in free period. I'll show you what I'm having trouble with, and you can try to help me work through why I'm getting so tripped up, okay?"

"'kay," Berwald murmured, and let Tino grab his arm and lead him out of the hallway. And behind Tino's head, he smiled blissfully.

* * *

><p><strong>Friday at 10:25 in the Senior Lounge<strong>

* * *

><p>So every day, every chance they got they worked on Tino's Swedish. His retake was the following Monday, so Tino sure hoped it would be okay. Presently, he was waiting for Berwald to meet him by the senior lounge. They usually met here, and then figured out where they wanted to spend their free period. Since it was a very nice day outside, and it had been so nasty and overcast the last couple of days, Tino decided he was going to push all he could to get Berwald to go to the courtyard with him.<p>

Berwald greeted him with a small half-smile the likes of which he usually produced, along with a, "Hej." They had taken to speaking Swedish in the presence of just each other, to assist Tino with his extra dedicated studying of the subject.

"Hej," Tino murmured, smiling up at him. He really liked to think that, when he smiled like that, Berwald's heart skipped half a beat. Maybe, only just a fourth. Sadly, he was almost certain neither his smile, nor anything else he did to desperately get the Swede's attention really worked. And sure, he wasn't nearly as mysterious as he'd been to Tino only two and a half weeks ago. Back then, Tino had only known his name, a few key things he'd heard from friends of friends who knew Berwald, and that the Swede was incredibly handsome and Tino wanted him, _bad_, but would never have the courage to tell him. But none of Berwald's actions had said he was at all interested in Tino.

Which figured, but still made the Finn incredibly sad. Half a dozen boys coming at him from every angle, and the only one he truly wanted only thought of him as a friend.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Tino continued, still in Swedish, "I think we should go to the courtyard today. It's beautiful out, and the senior lounge is going to be stuffy and hot. The air doesn't circulate well in there, and the school hasn't turned on the air conditioner yet. They never do, until June. And by then we'll be just about out of here." Seniors got off two weeks before underclassmen.

Berwald seemed to think for a moment, before he nodded. "Okay. Sounds good."

Tino flashed a grin, and grabbed Berwald's arm. He had a bad habit of doing that, and knew he should stop. One of these days, he would slip and grab Berwald's hand instead. And that would be bad. But until the Swede told him to stop doing it, he probably wouldn't be able to bring himself to stop doing it of his own volition.

Upon reaching the senior courtyard, they sat down at a small, two-person table. It was less comfortable than the six-seater tables with the cushioned swivel chairs and a glass tabletop to rest your arms on instead of wrought iron that dug in and sometimes cut. But it was more intimate, and in a far corner of the courtyard so they could talk in Swedish and not bug anyone else. Having someone near to you talking in a different language tended to impede conversation, more so than someone speaking the same language.

They'd only managed to pull out their books and turn them to the right page when Tino happened to look up and caught a familiar shock of platinum blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. Cursing under his breath, ("Perkele…") Tino looked up to assure himself that it was his brother, and upon confirmation turned back to Berwald and said again, "Perkele."

Berwald blinked. "That's…not Swedish."

"No. It's Finnish."

"Oh…Well, why—"

"Doesn't matter! Get under the table, my brother's here and if he sees us, it's goodbye all of our alone time!" Tino cried. Maybe 'alone time' wasn't the best term to use, because it implied that they actually spent more time alone than that in Berwald's car, when he was driving Tino alone. Mostly they spent time in the presence of fifty or sixty other seniors cramming for finals.

But that wasn't something to think about now, because Nikolai was heading towards their part of the courtyard fast, probably intended to sit at the empty six-seat table near them. Tino pulled the chair in front of him and Berwald—it wasn't a very good hiding place should someone choose to look down, but Nikolai had his nose firmly stuck in his mythology book and didn't' look to be surfacing anytime soon. Which was good for them, because their hiding space truly was pitiful.

Only once Nikolai was seated, and still staring at his book did Tino finally relax a little. He ended up leaning back against Berwald's chest, which he only realized when Berwald set a hand on his arm. But he didn't appear to be pushing him away; only to move him a bit so he could see out from between the chairs, too. His leg was sticking out a little too far, and Tino was straddling it, but again the Sweden either hadn't noticed yet, or didn't mind.

"Should we go?" Berwald muttered, his deep voice whispering right in Tino's ear. It made the Finn shiver.

"If at all possible, hell yes," Tino muttered back, glancing back at Berwald. And burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Ber, but…you just look like some kinda sniper or something! Waiting for the attack. It's…it's funny. Really kind of cute, but funny." He hoped Berwald didn't mind him saying that. Surely the boy knew he was exceptionally handsome.

Berwald started to chuckle with him, and soon enough they were falling all over each other. Tino attempted to crawl out from under the table several times, but ended up falling down again from his body-wracking laughs. Eventually, Tino ended up sitting back on his heels, with Berwald's face buried in his shoulder, both guffawing.

And then someone tripped over Berwald's foot.

Glancing out from under the table, Tino came face-to-face with someone he only recognized from the gossip mill. Mathias Køhler, the new kid.

Hmm. Well, he didn't _look_ threatening up close.

"Sorry," Mathias spoke, scratching the back of his neck in an awkward fashion, "But, ah, tell someone you're down there, yeah?"

"Oh, sorry," Tino said, giggling slightly and glancing over at Berwald. Once glance at the Swede's face, and he lost it all over again. Trying to keep it together and failing, Tino glanced back up at Mathias and said, "We were, ah, hiding." Then, when he realized he could no longer hold the laugher it, buried his face in the grass and collapsed into hysterics once more.

He vaguely heard Mathias mutter, "Oh…kay…then…" which only sent him into more hysterics, before the boy walked off. Chancing a glance up once he'd gotten himself back under control (And Berwald was still chuckling lowly) he realized that Mathias was _heading towards_ Nikolai. And while odd, it was the perfect distraction because Tino could see Nikolai's patented basilisk glare centered upon Mathias, and when he was looking at something like that, he had absolute tunnel vision. Berwald and Tino running by would be all but invisible to him.

"Now's our chance! Go, go go!" Tino said, pushing on Berwald. The Swede got up, pulling Tino with him, and the Finn shrieked out a laugh as he was half-pulled through the courtyard at high speed. The reached the hallway in record time, and didn't stop until they were halfway down the hall, standing in front of the sliding door to the freshman courtyard. No seniors ever walked down here, so they were mostly safe.

"That…was…hilarious," Tino giggled, still trying to catch his breath. "Did you see that guy's _face_?"

Berwald let out a bark of laughter and smoothed down Tino's hair, which had become utterly mussed up. Tino sighed, and leaned into Berwald's hand with his eyes closed, relaxing for a second. When he opened them, Berwald's aquamarine eyes were staring into his own, and he blinked. "Berwald? What is it?" He smiled, and moved a hand up to brush through Berwald's hair too. "I've probably got sticks in my hair, huh? Well, you too mister."

"Tino," Berwald whispered, and there was something different about his voice. Tino looked back to his eyes, and they stood there for a moment. Tino felt like he was utterly suspended in time.

Somehow, Berwald's other hand was on the small of his back, and both of his own were on Berwald's neck. Pressing chest to chest, Tino turned his head up and his eyes fluttered. "Berwald…"

"Mmm," Berwald whispered out, as they gently brushed lips. Tino pulled back, glanced from Berwald's lips to his eyes, and then pressed back in for another, longer kiss.

Then, a sudden thought hit Tino. Was he taking advantage of Berwald? Had he pulled Berwald towards him? Had there been resistance?

He pulled away with a gasp, and Berwald stared at him with unfocused eyes. Tino's mouth worked furiously, but no words wanted to come out. And when he finally did manage to get his tongue and brain to work in conjunction with each other, all that came out was, "I…I'm…Sorry, I've got to…" which was in no want intelligent, and just seemed to make him feel even _worse_. So, before he could embarrass himself even more, he spun on his heel and walked quickly out of the hallway.

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Once again, thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, guys! It means a lot to me. ^_^ Next chapter, you'll see what Nikolai does in his private time…and there'll be a little more Xang, and a little more Ice. Just as well, you'll get to see what's going through _Berwald's _head during the kiss…and we'll just see what else ;)

Incase anyone was wondering, this is what I've been basing the times off of:

First Hour: 7:30 – 8:10  
>Second Hour: 8:25 – 9:05<br>Third Hour: 9:20 – 10:00  
>Fourth Hour: 10: 15 – 1:00<p>

A Lunch: 10:15 – 10:45  
>B Lunch: 11:00 – 11:30<br>C Lunch: 11:45 – 12:15

Fifth Hour: 12:30 – 1:10  
>Sixth Hour: 1:25 – 2:05<br>Seventh Hour: 2:20 – 3:00  
>Eighth Hour: 3:15 – 3:55<p>

A lunch is before first hour, B is halfway through, and C is after.

I hope you enjoyed!

-Lynn


	4. Chapter 4: I Get By

**Notes**: Once again, I'd like to thank you all for the lovely reviews~ I'm doing spring cleaning—a lot of it. So updates might be slow, as I haven't been on my computer much. I'm doing most of the spring cleaning myself, because I know what I want done and I clean better alone, so it'll take me a bit longer than it would if I had a hand with it. XD But we'll just see how the updating goes. I'll try not to drop off the face of the planet. Also, we've had some bad weather and the power's been going on and off the last couple of days. We'll just see how things turn out. ^_^

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: Iceland/Hong Kong, passing mention of various other pairings. They won't be focused on in any meaning of the word.

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, mentions of underage drinking, ideologically sensitive material, swearing

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor to I own Taming of the Shrew, written by William Shakespeare, or Ten Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchestone Pictures. The only thing I own is the story below as you see it.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Get by with a Little Help from my Friends<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>2:30 That Same Afternoon, Library<strong>

* * *

><p>"We've got a problem."<p>

Xang looked up from his robotics textbook to stare at Mathias. Taking in his disheveled appearance, the crazy-worried look in his eyes, and the sheer amount of color absent from his face, Xang could come to one of two conclusions: Mathias had either done something extremely stupid, or someone extremely stupid had done something to Mathias. They were equally as likely, so he figured he would probably have to ask instead of just guessing like he usually did.

"What would that be?" He marked the page in his book, and slid it off to the side. Mathias sat down across from him, ran a hand through his already-wild hair, and let out a big sigh.

"Do you know some kid named Ivan?" was the first thing that came out of Mathias' mouth. With just those words, Xang understood what had happened. Frankly, there were three people at the school whom, if you went to Northern, you couldn't have _not_ at least known of. The first two were Nikolai and his brother. One because he was incredibly intelligent, seemed to have a nice personality, and was utterly unattainable—and everyone always seemed to want the most what they could never have. The other brother, similarly, because he was outstandingly smart, but also because he could out logic you faster than you could get the word out of your mouth, possessed all the charm of an angry porcupine, and had a bitchy streak lasting well over three years.

The third person on the list was one Ivan Braginksi. His reputation was infamous, even if you didn't participate in the gossip mill. Frankly, you had to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to notice the threatening, hulking figure making his way down the hallways during passing times.

"I…know _of_ him," Xang said, shrugging. "I've never really talked to him, and never really plan to. I've made it through almost all of my schooling without being concussed or else seriously injured in some other way, and I think I'd like to keep it that way."

"…I was afraid you were gonna say something like that," Mathias muttered, grinding his teeth together as he looked down at the table. That was something Xang had noticed about Mathias. While some people bit their lip or twiddled their thumbs, Mathias ground his teeth when he was nervous.

"Why?"

"He, ah…well…" Mathias sighed, and reached into his pants pocket. He withdrew with a fifty dollar bill to display, and Xang frowned deeply.

"What's he paying you for?"

Mathias mumbled something to the floor, and Xang let out an annoyed cluck and hit Mathias on the arm with his book. The Dane let out a whine of protest, rubbing his arm. "Oh come on, that didn't hurt. Be glad it was only my novel and not my textbook. Now seriously, tell me what's going on. Ivan Braginski is serious business, but I can't help you if you don't tell me what he's tried to rope you into."

Sighing, Mathias slumped into his chair and let out a long flow of garbled speech, the only word of which Xang caught was, "…Nikolai…"

"What does the Sorenson kid have to do with this?" Xang remarked, frowning and hitting Mathias with his novel again. "Sit up and speak clearly. Seriously, though, Nikolai's pretty antisocial and bitchy, but I don't think he's _evil_, and I don't think he'd team up with Ivan."

Now Mathias _did_ sit up as he wildly flapped his arms around, shaking his head. "No! Nikolai has _nothing_ to do with this. Well, I mean, it kind of has everything to do with him, but he doesn't know about it whatsoever! He, ah…this Ivan kid is trying to pay me to get Nikolai to go to prom with me."

Once again Xang had to ask, "…Why?"

"He…mentioned something about Nikolai's brother—you know the one that everyone seems to love? I guess he wants to get into Tino's pants, or something, because he walked up to me during my free period today, and shoved a fifty in my hand going on about how he wanted me to get Nikolai to come to prom with me, so he could have Tino go to prom with _him_. It's some kind of rule their father has—I dunno. And then when I told him I didn't want his money and told him to _take it the fuck back_, he told me that if _I_ didn't 'get Nikolai out of the way' he would do it _for_ me. He's going to hurt Nikolai, Xang!"

"Is _that_ all you're worried about?" Xang muttered, rolling his eyes. "Nikolai's pretty tough, Mathias. Besides, what's Ivan gonna do? Kidnap him?"

"Have you _met_ the guy, Xang?"

Well, the Dane may have been ditzy, but he had a strong heart, and smart mind, and a good point. Xang's confidence in his own statement dwindled, and he muttered, "Ah…touché."

"So…what do I do?" Mathias muttered, slumping and staring at the bill he still held in his hands. He didn't even want to put it back in his pocket. Didn't want do symbolize his agreement to Ivan's plot in any way, shape or form. Eventually, though, he did slide it back into his jeans.

"Well…ask Nikolai to prom, I guess," Xang remarked, shrugging. "I mean, if that's the only way to resolve the situation, and you're so worried about him, then that's…all I can suggest to you."

"Believe me, Xang, if it was _that fucking simple_ I wouldn't be freaking out like this right now!" Mathias pulled at his hair, slammed his forehead against the table a few times, and then was still for a long period of time. Xang examined him dryly, and tapped him for a third time with his book, this time on the crown of his head.

"You done now?"

"Yeah, shut up," Mathias muttered, sitting up. "You know Nikolai, Xang. He isn't just about to jump at the chance of going to prom, with me or anybody. It's going to take some serious persuading, and to do that I've got to get to know him. Which, I mean, I'd _love_ to do. But incase you haven't noticed, it's going to be like pulling teeth to get a guy like that to open up."

"I…realize that," Xang muttered, frowning down at his textbook. "I, uhm…I could try talking to some people. See if I can figure out where Nikolai might hang out, where you might have a chance of meeting him, you know? Maybe if you see him outside of school…it'll be better for him?"

"Maybe," Mathias considered. "But, ah…who would you talk to? There are like three people in this school who talk to Nikolai, and I'm one of them. The other is his brother and, depending on who you talk to, the guy's either way shy or a bitch on wheels, too. I don't think you're gonna get anything out of him. And the third one's…"

"Ice," Xang muttered, glancing beyond Mathias' head. Mathias glanced over his shoulder, and realized that the pale boy was sitting at a table a ways away from them.

"Well, yeah," Mathias said.

"I'll talk to Ice," Xang volunteered quickly, still boring holes into the Icelandic boy's head with his eyes. "You…should talk to Nikolai's brother. He's pretty cool, to be honest. I've never had any troubles with him; not really sure where the bitch on wheels rumors come from. Maybe just run-over from the rumors about Nikolai. Anyway, Mathias, why don't you go do that? Now?"

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Mathias stood up and muttered, "Yeah, sure…" before stomping out of the library, his woes no more resolved than they had been when he walked in.

Meanwhile, Xang stood up and picked up all of his books. Despite his almost unhealthy obsession with the boy for almost two years, Xang had never really _spoken_ to the boy, outside of pleasantries and short conversations during passing times when Xang would (Not so accidentally) bump into the other boy just to have an excuse to help him pick up his books. Ice was like him in the regard that they both carried around a hug pile of books, and no satchel to carry them in.

When he thumped his books onto the table, Ice looked up in utter confusion and not a little suspicion. Lowering himself into a chair and giving a respectful little half-bow, Xang said, "Uhm…hello. I'm Xang, and I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…?"

"Are…you with prom committee, or something?" Ice mumbled, "Because I've told three different people that I haven't, nor am I going to, buy a ticket." As he said this, he licked one long finger and flipped a page in the book he was reading. Xang took a bit of a closer look and realized it was some sort of bird book. Probably one of those little handbooks that birdwatchers carried around with them wherever they went. Funny; Xang had never known Ice was into birds.

"No, I'm not with prom committee," Xang said, leaning against the table. He leaned over slightly more. "I'm just…here for my own personal interest. For a friend, really. Bird-watching?"

Ice scoffed. "Orthinology. It's a lot more in-depth than simple _bird-watching_." Sighing and shaking his head, most likely exasperated from having to deal with ignorant people whom had little to no interest in the same subject as him, and didn't care to listen long enough to find out.

"Oh," mumbled Xang, nodding. "I never really know who's majoring in what around here, so excuse me. Birds are…they're cool, though."

Ice glanced to the side and mumbled, "You think so?" Ice wasn't as cold and rude as his best friend. He was just quiet, but when you were nice to him he was nice to you. Slowly, Ice turned the page again, but didn't look back down at the page. He was still shyly examining Xang from under his pale lashes.

"Yeah," Xang said, smiling. "My major is in robotics, but I mean…I can still appreciate nature. Uhm…my grandfather, he lives in Hong Kong. My father's English, and my mother is Chinese, and we go there in the summers, spending a month in China every other summer, and the same for England on the alternating summers. My grandfather owns about half a dozen Double-Crested Cormorants. Do you think you have those in your book?"

For a moment, Ice just stared at Xang as if he wasn't quite sure whether to trust him or not—as though he was trying to tell if Xang was being genuine. He must have liked what he saw, because he hesitantly glanced back at his book and murmured, "Maybe…" before flipping to the 'D' section of the Cormorants and Shags chapter. Another few pages flipped, and he held the book up for Xang's examination. "Did they look like this?"

The bird in the picture was, of course, a much more beautiful specimen than his grandfather's rather elderly brood of well-worked birds, but its general look and size was identical. He nodded. "Yeah, that's the bird. My grandpa uses them to fish with—you know. We go out on his boat with him, and he lets them out. They're trained to come back once they've caught a fish, and the younger ones have strings tied around their necks so they can't swallow the fish. It doesn't hurt them any, and he takes them off right away when they're done for the day. His side of the family has been doing it for years, and I've been thinking about learning how. Even if I'm not going to live in Hong Kong, most likely—I have my green card now…It's just to carry on the legacy…"

If only his brothers could see him now. Yong-Soo was always telling him how he was too quiet, and Kiku (though quiet himself) constantly told him that he needed to find himself some friends, a feat even he had excelled at in his four years at this school. Kiku had three good friends—a senior named Feliciano, and a Junior named Ludwig. And though Kiku was now in college, their friendship seemed to carry on.

Xang didn't think he'd talked so much in one go to anyone, much less a kid that was practically a stranger, before since sixth grade.

Ice, though, smiled a bit and looked back at the book, resting his chin in his hand. Xang thought he looked incredibly cute; shoulders hunched shyly, a light pink blush on his cheeks. Probably still wondering if Xang was telling the truth, but pleased all the same by his attempts at a connection.

"So…uhm…" Ice looked up from under his lashes again and murmured, "What is it that you wanted?"

Xang smiled. Success. Getting help for Mathias was, frankly, just a perk—the real victory was being able to talk to Ice for longer than ten seconds at a time.

"Well, you see, I have a friend, and he likes your friend…"

* * *

><p><strong>Earlier at 11:20, Courtyard Access Hallway<strong>

* * *

><p>Berwald honestly didn't know what he'd been thinking—the touch had started innocent enough, with him smoothing down Tino's impossibly rumpled hair. But then next second, Tino was leaning into his hand with the most blissful of expressions on his sweet face, and all Berwald could thing about was <em>if only he could see that face every day…<em>

He didn't realize he'd stopped moving until Tino's eyes opened again and confusion appeared in the violet depths. No—not violent. _Lavender-blue_. Not for the first time, Berwald tried to resist staring deeply into them and, not for the first time, failed. Tino seemed even more confused by this. "Berwald? What is it?" Then, with a grin and a low giggle, he reached up his hands and combed his own smaller fingers through Berwald's choppy hair.

"I've probably got sticks in my hair, huh? Well, you too mister."

Berwald wanted to reply with a statement that wouldn't incriminate him. Wanted to just continue the joke by replying something with equal playful jest, and forget that he'd almost embarrassed himself. But, instead, he whispered, "Tino…" in fascination, and Tino's eyes were suddenly looking into his again. They looked unsure—unfocused. But there was something else there, and Berwald realized it was some parts of what he was feeling, too, when Tino slowly, deliberately, wrapped his arms around Berwald's neck.

Then, looking up again, Tino's eye lashes fluttered and he leaned in closer, tilting his head to the side. "Berwald…"

Berwald let out an almost unconscious hum of contentment ("Hmm…") and came the last few millimeters, gently brushing his lips against Tino's. The contact was electric, and he pulled back a bit before he could become overwhelmed. Tino opened his eyes, stared between Berwald's eyes and down at what Berwald guessed was his mouth, then closed his eyes and leaned in again. After that, Berwald could no longer hold back and pulled Tino closer to him as they kissed deeply.

The tantalizing tastes that Berwald was getting of the Finn's tender inner lip were just becoming too much, and he was thinking about testing the waters with the tip of his tongue when Tino gasped and pulled away. At first, Berwald thought he might just need some air, and the beginnings of a goofy smile formed on his lips.

But he realized that Tino wasn't smiling back, and in fact was pulling away. His posture was that of nervousness, fear, and shame. He wrung his hands, glancing both ways. Berwald's eyes were still rather unfocused from the suddenness with which the last two minutes had passed, but even he could see that Tino was very panicked about something.

"I…I'm…Sorry, I've got to…" And then Tino turned his back starting off down the hall.

Berwald stood there, dumb-struck for the longest time. Tino was almost fully down the hall, his shoulders hunched oddly, when the Swede regained his senses. Berwald hurried after him and said, "Tino, wait…!"

That was when Tino took off running, and Berwald cursed under his breath in his native tongue before following the Finn. And though Berwald's legs were longer, Tino was smaller and faster. Using the maze of hallways to his advantage, Tino was completely lost to his gaze within moments. Berwald, shaking his head, cursed and hit a locker.

"Oi," said a soft voice. Berwald looked up and came face-to-face with someone he recognized as being Eirikur Jameson. This was surprising; Eirikur was Tino's brother's best friend, and certainly no one Berwald knew. Eirikur—or Ice, as he believed the Icelandic boy was called—was sitting on the stairwell, reading what seemed to be a novel.

"Tino went that way," Ice mumbled, pointing behind him. Berwald took this to mean he ran into the small hallway next to the staircase, which opened up to a larger one about halfway down. Ice added, "The stairwell is hollow. I bet he's huddled himself up under there. Tino does that sort of thing all the time." When Berwald stared at him oddly, Ice shrugged. "I'm close with his brother. I've known the kid since we were little." Standing up and folding his book, Ice continued, "I don't know what you did, but make it right. Because if you don't, I'll tell his brother."

Was Berwald supposed to take this to mean that Ice wouldn't tell Nikolai anything if he made things right? Well, he didn't have time to think of that. He had a Finn to locate, and Ice was already walking away.

Going through the half-size hallway (There were several of these in the school, and they were quite hard to navigate through with traffic) he came out on the other side and immediately wound around to slip under the hollow staircase. At first, all he saw was the dust-covered vastness that was the under stairs area. Then he realized that what he'd taken to be a shadow was actually a huddled lump of a person—Tino.

"Tino," Berwald mumbled, and Tino looked up in surprise. His arms fell away from his knees, but he didn't uncurl himself. "Y'kay?"

"Uhm…yeah, just embarrassed," Tino mumbled, chuckling slightly and pulling a hand through his hair. It came away covered in dust, and Berwald sighed. Tino's appearance would be horribly dusty if he stayed down here too long, and that wasn't good—they still have four hours of class left.

"Hmm?" Berwald questioned. He didn't know why. Their kiss had made him float above the clouds, and he was only praying that he hadn't ruined their friendship with it. He knew Tino was gay—the kiss was no more awkward that a boy kissing a girl whom he wasn't sure liked him. But if anyone should have been embarrassed, it was Berwald. He _knew_ Tino couldn't date, and also that he wasn't really interested in the activity. But…Tino had honestly looked like he _wanted_ the kiss…

And yet, here they were. Maybe Berwald had been wrong.

"I didn't want to…stand there, you know, and deal with the awkward silence after the kiss," Tino mumbled, biting his lip. "I…sorry, if you're mad. I didn't mean to do that."

"Ya…didn't?" Berwald mumbled. Now he just didn't know what to think. Wasn't _he_ the one that had kissed _Tino_?

Tino sighed and leaned back against the walls, shaking his head. One leg unfolded, and Berwald took this as a good sign. Hunching, Berwald came to sit across from Tino. The Finn smiled. "You're a sweetheart, Berwald, but you don't have to pretend. I know you're not interested in me. Are you even gay?"

Finally, an answer! And all a misunderstanding, too. Both of them thought the other had been the one that made the first move. Berwald almost felt like laughing in relief, but all he did was smile goofily—and Tino couldn't see it, not with the dim lighting under the stairwell—and mumble, "So…d'ya…like me?" in a voice that he tried to keep even.

Tino leaned his head against the wall with an exasperated half-smile. "Oh, come on Ber. Don't make me answer that. I think you know."

"Don't think I do."

Blushing, Tino sighed again and looked back towards where he thought Berwald's eyes were in the dark. He could see the miniscule light bouncing off the Swede's metal frames. "Well…yes. Yes, I do like you."

Berwald looked down and grinned again. "'Kay. Tino…want ya t'listen caref'lly t'me, 'kay?"

"Uhm…okay…"

Knowing full well that he'd never been good with words, Berwald didn't actually intend to _tell_ Tino anything. Instead, he rose into the same half-crouch he'd gotten under here in and shuffled across to Tino. The Finn looked confused, but when Berwald sat down next to him he probably figured Berwald just wanted to tell him this in a little quieter voice than that he'd been using to talk to Tino across the stairwell. Instead, though, Berwald moved a hand behind Tino's dusty head and eased him forward, head tilted up, so he could plant a kiss onto the Finn's lips.

This kiss was a bit dustier than the first one, but no less thrilling. Tino tasted like peppermint gum and that salted licorice he liked so much, and when the Finn relaxed into his arms Berwald damn near swore he'd died and gone to Heaven. Tino's other knee fell away, and he wrapped both arms around Berwald's neck. The Swede could feel small fingers messing with the hair at the nape of his neck. For some reason, he felt inexplicably happy at that.

They broke away in a much slower way than Tino's explosive jerk earlier. The kiss slowly became shallower until Tino leaned his forehead against Berwald's and, with his eyes still closed, whispered, "I…still don't quite understand, Berwald…does this mean…?"

"Yeah," Berwald murmured, and they kissed again; tenderly and chastely this time. Tino smiled against his lips, and opened his eyes slightly. Bit his plump lip cutely.

"Mmm. We'll have to work around Nikolai finding out. He'll tell Dad, and…that'd be bad." Tino sighed and pulled back slightly. "Also, there are only about five minutes left before the bell rings. We should probably get up and start heading towards our lockers."

"Yeah," Berwald remarked on both counts, nodding and squeezing Tino's hand. The Finn got up and shuffled out from under the stairwell, and Berwald steadied him with a hand on his hip before getting up himself and following. Once he could stand up straight and had enough light, Tino realized just how dusty he was and scoffed, brushing himself off. Berwald was a bit less dusty, although his hair had more due to the fact that he was so tall that it actually brushed the top of the stairs. As he was brushing off his arms, Tino bent over and shook his hair out.

Berwald couldn't help but let his eyes wander. Good Lord, this Finn was going to be the death of him.

"Okay?" Tino asked as he stood back up, and came over to brush away a bit of dust that Berwald couldn't see. Berwald nodded and brushed off most of Tino's back, leaving the lowest portion for the Finn with a mumble of, "There's some on yer bum."

"Oh!" Tino laughed and reached both hands back to brush off said perky backside. Berwald sighed. Honestly, he felt bad about scrutinizing Tino like that, but he was really very attractive and Berwald, he supposed, now had _permission_ to stare. Beside that, he was only a human male. He couldn't keep those thoughts from crossing his mind more than any other man.

For a moment, Tino was still and simply stared at him. Then he smiled a bit and took his hand, kissed Berwald's lips, and said, "Come on, okay? Walk me to my locker?"

Berwald smiled. "'course."

* * *

><p><strong>Later at 4:10 PM, Student Parking Lot<strong>

* * *

><p>"I can't believe that <em>fucking asshole<em>," Nikolai growled, stomping towards his car with Ice timidly shuffling along behind. The Norwegian boy slung his satchel off his shoulder, tossed it into the trunk, and held out his hand for Ice's. All the while, continuing, "I mean, it's one thing to try to torment me in school—I'm used to it, I'm immune to it. But to _fucking ask me out_? Who does he think he is! Fuck, Ice, you don't know how glad I am that I've only got two weeks left in this hellhole."

"Nikolai, did you ever think that he might have been…telling the truth?" Ice muttered, playing with his sleeve as he waited for Nikolai to unlock the car. When Nikolai did, Ice dove in and did his seatbelt up. Nikolai would be calmer once he was driving, and if he was already in the car Ice ran less of a risk of getting himself kicked out onto the street to walk home.

Getting in as well, Nikolai fixed his friend with such a sarcastic look that Ice nearly winced. Nikolai's glares could kill, whether he intended for them for or not. Knowing Nikolai, though, he most likely did. "Yes, Ice, and pigs are taking flight as we speak. Honestly, why would _anyone_ in that school be honest about asking me out?"

"Oh, don't be so self-pitying," Ice snapped, so used to and tired of hearing that argument. It was the same exact reply Nikolai had been using since eighth grade, when people started becoming interested and asked the boy out. Ice, frankly, was tired of Nikolai's whole 'no one would ever _want _to date me' attitude.

"Shut up, Ice, that's not what I mean and you know it."

It wasn't that he didn't think he was attractive—he knew it was. He possessed self-worth, he just didn't find anyone else very worthy of his time, especially the idiots he'd been forced to go to school with. Smarts did not always mean personality, and the vapid, egotistical masses at Northern High School proved this point thusly. This attitude had pretty much turned everyone off him very early in the dating game that always started around eighth grade for every graduating year in the history of formal education.

Nowadays, he was very well aware that the only people who asked him out were the cruel bullies who liked to see everyone below them suffer. And as Nikolai held himself rather above those kinds of people, he wouldn't let himself fall to their tricks. He would rather die, frankly.

"Well then, why don't you just…be a bit more cooperative?" Ice grumbled, slumping down in his seat and crossing his arms. Frustration, when you were best friends with Nikolai, was no foreign emotion.

"The guy's reputation is almost as infamous as mine, Ice, but for totally different reasons," Nikolai muttered, looking over his shoulder as he began to back out of his space. Some Asian kid walked right behind his car, and he honked the horn and screamed, "Watch where you're going!" out the window.

"Nikolai!" Ice screamed, glaring. "Do you have to be like that? Take your frustrations out on something that isn't innocent bystanders for once! God damnit, why do you always have to be like this?"

Nikolai ignored the question and instead resumed backing up as he continued his thought from earlier, "And if even half the things everyone says about him is true, he isn't the kind of guy that would be asking me out, anyway. He's out to embarrass me or something."

"Just like every other guy in the world, right Nikolai?" grumbled Ice, rolling his eyes. Honestly, Nikolai could be so melodramatic sometimes. Others he was just plain selfish. Sometimes, Ice wondered how they had remained friends for so many years. Then he remembered, when Nikolai wasn't so pissed off anymore, that the Norwegian was actually a pretty cool, calm kid. It was just happening less and less, like it always did during finals.

"Right," Nikolai muttered darkly. Why bother arguing with Ice if he was going to be like that? "I wouldn't date him if he was the last guy on earth."

"Oh Nikolai," Ice sighed exasperatedly, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. After a few seconds, and once Nikolai was on the main road, he chanced another statement. "You never know. This cold be good for you."

"Can we just drop the conversation, Ice?"

The pale boy frowned. "Fine." Why bother arguing with Nikolai if he was going to be like that?

After Nikolai dropped Ice off, he continued on to his own house and pulled in the driveway. His father was home, which was odd but not unheard of. Benjamin didn't really have a fixed schedule, and much less now that he was finding less and less work. The only reason he was at work so late these days was to do paper work and, Nikolai sometimes felt, avoid coming home. He wasn't stupid; he could see how devastated his father was at the idea that he was losing both children to universities thousands of miles away. Tino was going to Boston, and Nikolai was going to Norway.

He'd been avoiding them since mid-May, when Tino's college plans were finalized. And it hurt, but Nikolai couldn't blame him. Benjamin had never quite gotten over Nikolai's mother's death. Now he wouldn't have Nikolai or Tino, whom reminded him of her. Nikolai looked like her, and Tino acted like her. It was a horrible thing to know, that your father would only miss you because of your mother. But, then again, maybe that wasn't the only reason.

It was an awfully big house—too big for one person. And, at this point, Benjamin had probably realized two glaring facts:

Number one: No matter what, Nikolai was _not_ moving back to California, if he even moved back to America. Before he started his studies, he was going to claim his Norwegian citizenship on his mother's side. And Nikolai hated the general opinions of Californians. Maybe it was partially the classic 'anywhere is better than my hometown' mentality, but he'd been to Norway and liked it about fifteen times better.

Number two: Tino practically _wouldn't_ be able to live in California. He wanted to work for the government. While there was a need for translators in this area, it wasn't for the northern European languages Tino knew. Besides, he knew Russian. He would be a valuable asset to federal government, not to mention the FBI and, possibly, CIA.

For the moment, Nikolai tried not to think about it. He didn't like the idea that the man who had raised him for the last five years of his adolescence was being so very stricken by his imminent abandonment.

You never quite grow out of your separation anxiety stage, he'd learned. And no matter what anyone said, even himself, no one wanted to live life alone.

Walking in the door, Nikolai glanced into the living room and found Benjamin writing something on the notepad in the kitchen that he usually scrawled on when he wanted to leave his boys notes. Nikolai set his bag down on the kitchen table, and Benjamin glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, you're home. I was just writing you a note. I have an appointment later tonight, and it might last a while. There's…not a lot in the fridge. I stuck thirty-five dollars under a magnet on the fridge. You can go to the store, or you can order pizza."

"Okay," mumbled Nikolai, eyes settling on the magnet on the fridge. It was the same one every time; a custom souvenir magnet his mother had bought, of all of them in Oslo when Nikolai was seven. It was the kind of touristy, gimmicky things that everyone gobbled up in those places; have your picture taken and we'll superimpose it on a mug, a lighter, a magnet. But his mother always had been one to go for those cliché's. She thought they were charming.

Nikolai drifted over to the fridge and removed the cash. He didn't really feel like going to the store. "I'll order something."

"Okay," Benjamin said, nodding. He ripped off the rendered-useless note and threw it away. "I'll be back…I don't know when. By the way, Nikolai. What are those plans you have Saturday?"

"Uhm, it's a renaissance fair," Nikolai explained slowly, considering his words carefully. It was the only way he could describe it; the fair was a two-day event, and it was supposed to take you back to Stone Age Norway, complete with mythical creatures. Nikolai was going to be an elf. "And it's Sunday, too."

"Who's going with you?"

"Just Ice," Nikolai mumbled. That was, if their little argument today hadn't made Ice too angry with him. If it had, he'd still go. It would just be a little less fun without his best friend.

"Okay." Benjamin nodded, looked as if he wanted to say something more, then decided against it and walked towards the door. At the last moment, he leaned back in the room and said, "Uhm…take pictures, okay? And I might…drop by and, ah, see you okay? I've…never seen you perform." Nikolai had been a reenactor for years. It was something he used to do with his mother. After she died, he continued to do it to carry on the tradition, and in honor of her memory. Sometimes they were official reenactments, where he had to audition. Others were informal, like this one, where you showed up and acted the part.

Nikolai was surprised, frankly. Benjamin had always thought his hobby frivolous. But he nodded, and couldn't help but smile slightly. "Okay."

Benjamin nodded, and continued towards the door.

"That was awkward," Nikolai mumbled, frowning down at the countertop. He and Benjamin hadn't had a conversation that wasn't school- or chores-centered since Nikolai turned thirteen. With the minor exception of conversations like the one they'd had a few weeks ago, involving Nikolai showing some rare teenaged rebellion and Benjamin yelling at him for it.

"But…" Nikolai mumbled, playing with the magnet on the television. "At least…he's trying, right Mom?" All his mother did was smile at him, obviously, and he sighed before sticking the magnet back on the television. After sitting down at the table, he pulled out his phone, texted Tino to come home because dinner was going to be here soon and he _wasn't_ going to keep it warm for him, called the thirty-minute-delivery place and asked for a large pepperoni-and-sardine (Theirs was the only family he knew of that actually liked sardines on their pizza) then pulled up another text window and simply stared at it for the longest time.

He wasn't good with apologies. Ice knew that, but…

Eventually, he managed to make his fingers work.

_I'm sorry. I was pissed, and I overreacted. Friends?_

Childish and probably a tad more insecure than he cared to admit, but it did the trick. A minute or two later, Nikolai looked up from where he was leaning against the counter sipping water when the cell phone still on the table vibrated.

_Friends. _

* * *

><p><strong>5:00 PM, Jameson residence<strong>

* * *

><p>"Okay," Ice mumbled into his phone, mixing some tuna salad up. He had two pieces of bread laid out on the counter, waiting for the arrival of filling. Puffin (Whom was, what else, a puffin) was sitting on the counter, waiting for Ice to give him a nibble on the spoon like he always did. Puffin had belonged to Ice's sister, once upon a time. She'd found him as a chick, injured, and cared for him herself. Unfortunately, she soon realized that Puffin had grown up without learning valuable self-preservation skills, and so she could never release him back into the wild.<p>

That had been two years ago, and when she finished her geological studies in Iceland, she came home and promptly became pregnant by her then-fiancé, now-husband. They lived in an apartment, and Puffin couldn't stay with the new baby. Puffin had been passed on to Ice.

"Okay what?" asked the voice on the other end.

"Okay, I'll help you with Nikolai," Ice said, furiously mashing the tuna mixture to get it to the right consistency. "But on one condition. If this doesn't work, you won't push it. Nikolai's feelings are just like anybody else's; fragile."

"I know," Xang said. "And I promise I won't let Mathias do that."

"But I think talking in a setting other than school would be beneficial," Ice said. "Somewhere deep in his mind, Nikolai must know that only someone truly interested in him would attempt to rendezvous with him outside of school. The bullies don't try that hard, and the ones that just think he's cute, also think he's a Satan-worshiper and eats babies on the weekends."

"That's…Not right."

"Tell me about it," chuckled Ice, nestling the phone into the crook of his neck and scooping the tuna onto his sandwich. "Eat lunch with me tomorrow, I'll tell you what I have in mind. You're sure that this Mathias guy is genuine, right?"

"The rumors aren't true," Xang said. It was basically to reassure all the thoughts that were surely spinning around Ice's head. "He's…a knucklehead lacking in common sense, but he's not a bad guy by any means."

"Okay," Ice said, nodding. "Thanks. I'll see you at lunch tomorrow, and you can text me later."

"Right," Xang said. "Uhm…goodnight."

"Goodnight," Ice murmured, suddenly demure as he held the spoon out to Puffin. The bird eyed it wearily, noting the odd look on Ice's, face, but must have realized it wasn't in relation to the food because he dipped his head and took a bit.

There was an awkward moment of silence where they just listened to each other breathing, before Ice chuckled, "Hanging up now…" and pressed the 'end call' button. He leaned on the counter, dropping his phone, and stared at Puffin.

"I wonder what I've gotten myself into."

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

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><p>AN: Well, children, that was chapter four. XD Sorry it took so long, but we've had bad weather the last few days (Anyone who lives in the Eastern US knows what I'm talking about.) and I haven't felt well. Also, we were doing some spring cleaning. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^_^

Also, I'm going to be at JaFax 2011. If anyone is interesting in rendezvousing, say so in your review or a PM and we'll talk! My sister and I tried to get a panel spot for our Fanfiction panel, but unfortunately we did not get there in time. But if you like my writing, and want tips, please tell me. :)

I'll be cosplaying Sweden on Saturday, and Shuichi Shindou from Gravitation on Sunday. If you see me, feel free to talk! I'll respond to Sweden, Shuichi (Depending on which cosplay I'm doing.) Margaret, Maggie, or even Lynn if you say it loud enough. ;)

-Lynn


	5. Chapter 5: Black Box

A/N: AWWW. YOU GUYS. I'M SO HAPPY. Forty reviews in four chapters! You guys are just really amazing; thank you so, so much for all of your wonderful reviews! They mean so much to me, and I hope that I can continue to provide you with entertaining writing that will keep you reviewing—or, at least reading. ;)

Finals are this coming week, guys, so I may be gone for a while. But on Wednesday June 15, I'm officially out of school, so I'll have a lot more time to write! On top of that, though, my grandmother is in the hospital, so I'm going to be spending a lot of time with her both in the hospital and when she gets home. She's almost eighty-five years old and very weak at the moment; she's anemic and came quite close to a heart-attack on Tuesday night. I'm hoping she'll be okay—she's strong, and at almost eighty-five this is the first serious medical scare she's had in her old age. So hopefully she'll be a trooper and come out on top like she always does in life. :)

Any-hoo…on with the chapter!

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise: **Hong Kong/Iceland, miscellaneous others.

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, mentions of underage drinking, idealistically sensitive material, swearing.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts are the property of Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor do I own Taming of the Shrew, writing by William Shakespeare, or Ten Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchestone Pictures.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Black Box<strong>

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><p><strong>Friday at 3:57 PM, Lobby<strong>

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><p>Honestly, Mathias did not know why he let Xang dictate his decisions like this—where they pertained to Nikolai and this whole, horrible ordeal the Russian kid was leading them through right now. After all, the Asian boy was no less than one foot shorter than himself, tiny and incredibly effeminate. At least, that's what he muttered to himself when Xang couldn't hear.<p>

Then again, Xang really was the only ally he had in this whole battle and he just knew that the boy would have no qualms over dropping him like a hot potato should he annoy him enough. And complaining about Xang's suggestions (Read as: Commands) was a sure-fire way to annoy the ever-living hell out of the Asian boy. Xang was a quiet kid with a short temper, although he chose to let it be known is subtle ways. The way that he didn't hesitate to hit Mathias with something (Usually his novel or, if Mathias was particularly unlucky that day, a text book) was one big example.

The lack of desire to lose his ally was what resulted in Mathias finding himself running to catch up with a boy he only knew as 'Nikolai's brother' through the overly-crowded lobby of the school and out onto the outside staircase, where he proceeded to almost fall down the two dozen stone steps. Thankfully, he caught himself on the railing and, once his balance was caught, continued jetting after the blonde-haired boy.

He had to move quickly, because he had no name to call and in order to catch the boy and stop him he would actually have to lay hand on him. As said before, he only knew the boy as 'Nikolai's brother' and it would look incredibly stupid to shout something like that across a busy quadrangle.

Finally, he secured a hand onto the kid's shoulder, whom proceeded to jump, then laugh. "Don't scare me like that babe—" then he paused, as he turned around and fully absorbed who was touching him. "You're not Berwald." With this, he eased his shoulder out from under Mathias' hand and stared at him with wariness. "Can I help you?"

"You're Nikolai's brother, right? Nikolai Sorenson?" As if there was any other Nikolai in the school.

"Yeah, he's my brother," Tino said, tucking a lock of long (For a boy) blonde hair behind his ear and surreptitiously stepping away, so Mathias was no longer invading his personal space. Mathias wondered if the shy rumors were true, the way Tino was eyeing him like he wasn't quite sure if he really wanted to be talking. Then again, Mathias couldn't blame him; he'd undoubtedly been informed of the rumors surrounding Mathias, and had no reason to disbelieve them.

"You're Mathias Køhler…right?" Tino muttered, squinting up at Mathias. "The new kid? My brother's told me that you've been bugging him, and I really think it would be for the best of you would just leave him alone. When he says he doesn't want to do with you, he doesn't want to do with you. Trust me, it can only lead to bad situations…" Then, with something like utter relief staining his tone, "Oh! Berwald!"

"…Huh?" Mathias muttered, but before the statement could get any further, he felt a presence behind him.

"Somethin' wrong?" asked a gravely voice, and Mathias felt uneasiness shoot through him. He really didn't want to turn around and see what kind of kid was standing there, but he did anyway. What he found wasn't exactly bad, but wasn't exactly good, either. It was the creepy kid he'd seen under the table that one day—no one could forget a stranger staring at you like he wanted to eat you.

Then again, wasn't Tino the kid that had been under the table with him? Yes, he did believe so…

What was the story there?

"No, not really…," Tino mumbled, going around Mathias to lock hands with Berwald. "Uhm, just…" from there, he tip-toed up to the level of Berwald's ear and mumbled, "That kid that's been giving Nikolai all kinds of trouble? I told you about him…Let's go, babe, to your house or something…"

"Hey!" Mathias cried, flapping his arms out to the side. "I can hear you, you know! And for your information, I have not been giving your brother _crap_. I've just been…coming off the wrong way! Just…just please listen to me for five seconds; I need your help, okay? If you don't, your brother might get really hurt and I don't want that."

Tino looked incredibly unsure, caught between obligation to his brother and his own distrust of strangers. Berwald, for his part, looked very unamused and about to do some sort of bodily harm to Mathias. He muttered to Tino in a language that Mathias recognized as Swedish. Due to the similarity between that and his native tongue, he could catch key words like, 'make' and 'away', but the gist of the sentence was lost on him until Tino replied, in English, "No, no. I don't want you to get in trouble. I'll talk to him."

"_Thank you_," Mathias said, glaring at Berwald. They were not going to be friends, he and Berwald. Mathias could tell. "It's going to sound bad, but listen all the way through and hopefully you'll realize the gravity of the situation."

"Okay," Tino muttered, while Berwald grumbled, "Get on with it."

They sat down at a nearby table, and Mathias began, "You know Ivan Braginski, right?" Tino's responding, 'oh God…' told him all he needed to know. "Yeah, well, a few days ago he came up to me during my free period and struck up conversation. The dude's not at all right in the head, if you didn't know that before. He said that he'd gathered that I had a thing for your brother—which, I mean, I wouldn't call it a 'thing', I just like him—and that he wanted me to do something for him. I said, "What."

"So he says that he wants to take you, Tino, to the prom and in order to do that someone needs to get your brother out of the way. Your dad has some rule about that, yeah? If one of you doesn't go, neither of you go." Tino nodded, now about two shades paler. Mathias didn't blame him. Finding out someone like Ivan Braginski was after you was always disconcerting—although, Mathias wasn't exactly sure he'd submit to someone like Berwald's attempts at courtship either. But that had apparently worked in Tino's favor, and to each his own. "Yeah, so before I know it the guy's shoved fifty dollars in my hand—I didn't _want _to take it, but he probably would have broken my hand if I didn't—and he says, "Either you find out a way to get Nikolai to go to prom, or I do it _for_ you."

"Oh shit," Tino said.

"My thoughts exactly," Mathias said. "God knows what he's going to do to your brother, Tino. I don't want that to happen. I wouldn't wish the wrath of Ivan Bragiski on anyone; and I've only ever talked to the kid once. On top of that, you're involved just as much as your brother is. I'm trying to help you guys, but in turn _I_ need help from _you_."

"You're sure?" Tino said, worrying his lip. "That…he's talking about me, and my brother?"

"Do you know any other Nikolais that have a brother named Tino?"

"Uhm…no," Tino sighed. "But…I don't know what you want from me. What can I possibly do?"

"I need help getting into your brother's head," Mathias said. "You're the only viable source of information I can think of, and the only one I'd trust besides. I'm trying to be conscious of his feelings, and I can't do that if I know nothing about him. I'm not out to hurt your brother, Tino. I really do like him."

For a moment, Tino stared at him blankly, then: "I'm sorry…and I shouldn't say things like this about my own brother…but why? Nikolai's…he's not _nice_ to people."

Mathias shrugged. "I think…he needs a friend. Someone who cares about him. Someone other than family who gives a shit about how he feels. Everyone needs someone like that."

Tino looked down, and nodded a bit. "You know, a week ago I really wouldn't understand what you mean, but…now I do." With a small twitch in his lips, and glanced at Berwald. "Uhm…okay, we can do this. You know Nikolai will be at a Ren Fair tomorrow? If you want to catch him at a good time, that would be it. He's really content at those kinds of things. While he's gone tomorrow, Berwald, you and I can look around his room. Snoop a bit."

"Really? You'll help?"

"For Nikolai, yes," Tino said. "And…I mean, to save my own ass. I imagine that you'll help us figure out a way to not let Ivan get to either of us, right?"

Mathias smirked. "My dad was a military mastermind. He told me about every tactic he ever encountered. I'm sure I can implement something that'll work."

Simultaneously, the other two boys glanced at Berwald. His approval made or broke the deal.

All he did was nod. Tino grinned and, internally, Mathias gave a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday at 6:00 AM, Sorenson-Väinämöinen residence<strong>

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><p>Waking up at six o'clock on a Saturday morning was absolutely ridiculous, and even Nikolai wouldn't defend his own decision. There was no appeal to waking up this early, even to an early bird such as himself. Seven would have been a more reasonable hour. But for some reason, Ice wanted to get to the fair a little bit early—probably to set up his little table selling bird trinkets—and Nikolai was his ride. Since he and Ice were still kind of treading on thin ice (Ha—haha) since their argument earlier in the week, Nikolai had given into the request without much protest.<p>

The house was very quiet, which was nice. Not that it wasn't usually quiet inside the house, but outside there were always children screaming and dogs barking. This early in the morning, all he could hear was the chirping of birds in the ethereal blue of the early morning. Nikolai loved mornings for that reason, but six was pushing it a little. All the same, he got up out of bed on the second ring of his alarm clock and headed into the bathroom to shower.

When he came out, dressed in a casual tee-shirt and shorts (his costume was in his bag; he would change once he got there) Tino was up as well, going through the motions of making a pot of coffee. Nikolai scratched the back of his head, and sat down at the table. "Uhm…good morning. Why are you up?"

"I heard your alarm clock," Tino said, shrugging. "I figured I might as well get up. Didn't quite realize that it was six o'clock in the morning, but I don't really care. Are you going to stay for a while or are you getting going right away?"

"I'll have some coffee," Nikolai said, leaning against the counter and watching the coffee maker drip. Tino nodded and wandered to the other side of their large kitchen to pull peanut butter out of their pantry, followed by a jar of jelly from the fridge. Nikolai watched disinterestedly, absentmindedly tapping his fingers against the counter as his dull navy eyes followed Tino's movements.

"Do you want one for the road?" Tino asked, obviously alluding to the sandwich ingredients he had laid out before him. He pulled out a knife and stuck it in one of the jars—the peanut butter—while laying down two slices of bread. He paused, waiting for Nikolai's reply before he closed up the bag.

"Uhm…yeah, sure," Nikolai replied. He wandered over to the sink and reached above it for a thermos, then rinsed it out and pulled out the creamer and sugar from the pantry, as well. Their coffee maker was fast and the pot was about half-full at that point, so it wouldn't be long before he could poor himself a thermos full and be out the door. Tino was still preparing the sandwiches, and the first one he made he handed off to Nikolai, already wrapped in a small sandwich bag. Nikolai glanced at the clock, and realized it was almost seven o'clock. Ice would probably kill him if he didn't get to his house within the next ten minutes; it was about an hour's drive from their neighborhood to the fairgrounds, and Ice wanted to be there by eight.

"Thanks," Nikolai said, patting Tino's shoulder. The Finn smiled slightly at him, and Nikolai couldn't help but quirk his lips in return. His brother's smiles were contagious, and even he was not able to resist the spell.

Ice only lived a few minutes down the road, and Nikolai pulled up at exactly eight o'clock. The pale boy stepped out of his house in what appeared to Nikolai to be a very gingery fashion, probably because his mother and father were still asleep, and tip-toed all the way down the walk until reaching the boulevard in front of the house. Then he proceeded to jerk the door open and plop himself in the seat, tossing his bag in the back. Nikolai raised and eyebrow and said, "If that landed on my bag, I won't hesitate to harm you. My ears are in that bag and they're breakable."

"Calm down, elfie," Ice said, rolling his eyes. "I tossed it the other way."

"You should talk, fairy," snorted Nikolai.

"I am a wood spirit!" Ice cried, flinging his arms about. Nikolai chuckled in disbelief, and Ice grumbled to himself, but both were glad for the return of their usual banter. No one ever knew when their fights would be inconsequential, and when they would cause a rift between them for months on end. This one had been in the middle, but definitely not as bad as some. A long period of time in eighth grade when they didn't talk at all came to mind.

That hadn't been a happy time in Nikolai's life.

As the fairgrounds were in the opposite direction from the city, and their well-to-do suburb was far away from the more metropolitan area anyway, the scenery only got more rural as they went, and the roads only got narrower. Nikolai tsked in annoyance every time a small animal darted in front of the car, and Ice just stared out the window. It was very quite for about half an hour.

"Do you ever wish you could live out here?" Ice was the one who broke the silence, as they came out from behind a long line of trees to reveal a ranch on the side of the road. Horses were dotting the landscape, grazing about one-hundred meters away. "I mean, it's amazing. Fresh air; clean, rich, healthy dirt that you don't mind getting messy with. You can see for miles in any direction, except for where there's trees."

"I don't know," Nikolai said, shrugging. "I like camping…and I like nature. I just don't think I'd be able to survive for too long out here. Call me a vain city boy, but I kind of need creature comforts. Although, it would be nice and quiet."

Ice glanced Nikolai's way and laughed. "Admit it, you'd miss people, wouldn't you Nikolai?"

Nikolai stuck his tongue out. "Socialization is something everyone needs once and a while. Even the most antisocial person can go stir-crazy after too long. Don't pretend you wouldn't."

"I would," Ice agreed. "But a small community wouldn't be all that bad—one where everyone knows each other and all of you has the others' backs. It would be a nice place to live and settle down. Nice place to raise a family."

"Definitely not for me," Nikolai decided, shaking his head. "I want a family like I want a hole in my head. Just give me a cat or a dog and a small apartment in downtown Oslo and I'll never bother you again."

"Nikolai…" Ice had that tone about him; that 'you're being unreasonable and saying things that my morals won't allow me to agree with' tone. It was the tone that always got Nikolai pissed with him, and nine times out of ten started their fights. But, for the sake of their nice, pleasant day and their health (Being angry impeded his ability to drive) Nikolai tried to stay calm and level headed.

"I know Ice, I know. But I can't help it; that's how I feel," Nikolai muttered. They came to a stoplight, and Nikolai had been through here enough times to know that it was a long one. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the steering wheel, his arms folded below it. Glancing at Ice out of the corner of his eye, he said, "I just doubt I'll ever meet someone who I really want to raise a family with. I know there are good people out there, somewhere. But I've never met any of them—except for you, and Tino. And sometimes Benjamin. And all of you are unavailable for obvious reasons."

Ice shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

Truth was, Nikolai had once been pretty sure he was in love with his best friend. It had been ninth grade, and even Nikolai was quite sure it was just his hormones. Ice was the only boy in his life, aside from his father and brother, who really seemed to give a damn about him. That had been utterly attractive to the boy who had just lost his mother and felt the world had rejected him. But Nikolai's life had been a mess at that point, and he would have rather died than pull Ice into that. By the time his life had gotten back under control, his crush on his best friend had disappeared, replaced by what was simply a strong brotherly bond. It had been that way ever since, and Nikolai couldn't help but be relieved.

"Think of it this way. What do you want in a guy?" Ice remarked, picking at his nails as the car got going again. "What are the qualities about us that you like and could be applied to a lover?"

"Well…You all put up with my shit," Nikolai remarked, making Ice laugh heartily. "And that's more than I can say of a lot of people. Also, you don't let yourselves be pushed around, which is a major-turn on in my opinion." He flinched. "Not that I'm turned on by any of you. That came out wrong."

Ice giggled again. "I got it. Go on."

"Tino's sweet, but he's got this internal fire. He knows when to be nice and when to be forceful, which is something that even I can't really do. But sometimes he's _too_ nice, which annoys me."

"Hmm," Ice agreed.

"_You_ listen to me bitch and don't interrupt me. Usually you put me in my place afterwards, but I don't mind that so much."

"Sounds to me like you've got a pretty good list there already," Ice said, smirking. "When you get to Norway, go to a couple of college parties. They're different there than they are here, I'm sure, but not too different. You'll have no reputation there, and unless you _want_ to be known internationally as a bitch on wheels, I suggest that you build a slightly different reputation for yourself once you're overseas. Start doing that by meeting new people. Concentrate on studies, but also kind of make sure you make friends and have a _life_ outside of school. Meet new people, do new things. Date someone just because he's cute, for Christ's sake! Have fun with your life. Then, when you're older and more secure in where you're going, make friends with some wonderful guy and get the hugest crush that ever was on him. Then one day confess and be amazed when he likes you back, and then fall in love, get married, adopt a small Asian baby, and have yourself a really good life."

Nikolai twitched again. "No more romance novels for you."

"I'm serious!" Ice cried, turning fully to face him and shaking his head forcefully. "Seriously, Nikolai, you're going to be a really unhappy person if you don't at least _try_ to find someone to be happy with." He looked into his lap and muttered, "And that wasn't from a romance novel, for your information; it was shojo manga."

"Sho-what?" Nikolai muttered, turning the car into the gravel parking lot of the fairground. It was really a large woodsy area vaguely outlined by a hiking path. The grass and foliage were all deep, rich colors of green and all at once Nikolai remembered why he loved summer.

"Shojo manga. You know Xang Kirkland? His brother is into the whole Japan thing and while I was over the other day he gave me some manga to read. It was cheesy, but I liked the art."

Nikolai stared at his best friend for a long moment, before drawling monotonously, "Get out of my car."

Ice sniggered and did so, reaching into the back to pull his bag out of the backseat before heading towards the fairground. Nikolai sighed and adjusted the clip in his hair before he mimicked Ice's actions, grabbing his violin case as well, and headed off in the same direction.

The changing rooms were really a sectioned-off tent that had half a dozen small vanities and a few portable changing rooms within. They were some of the first to arrive this morning, so chose their changing rooms and got to work getting into costume. Nikolai's was a long robe which looked heavier than it actually was—it was summer after all, and if the costume hadn't been built that way he would have absolutely sweltered. Light blue and creamy off-white, it trailed on the floor behind him and hung loosely from his shoulders. A headpiece went into his hair; one which matched the clip he already had so he didn't have to take it off. He hated taking it out, for the risk that he might lose it.

He swept out of the dressing room, tossing his shorts and shirt into his bag and tossing the bag in a random corner of the tent. He highly doubted anyone would be bothering his stuff; most people who went to these things and performed were really good, trustworthy people.

"Hey, Ice, are my ears even?" Nikolai said, wandering towards where he'd last seen his friend—at a vanity at the far end of the line. "I think they are, but it's kind of hard to tell because I can only really look at one at a time…" He trailed off as he came upon Ice talking to an Asian kid. Someone he very much recognized. Ice was supporting his weight on one leg, with a hand on the kid's arm. Nikolai had seen Ice do this enough times to realize that he was in full-on flirt mode.

Half of him wanted to interrupt rudely and drag Ice away. But the more dominant part, the part that cared immensely about his best friend, decided not to. Instead he snuck off in the other direction, exiting the tent with his violin case in hand. The sun was getting bright, and he had to squint against it.

As he was walking through the grounds, he came upon a natural stump from a tree long since fallen down. It wasn't the stump itself that stopped him. It was the person on it.

"_Fuck no_," he hissed. How could this week get any worse?

Mathias smiled. "You play violin?"

* * *

><p><strong>1:00 PM later that day, Beilschmidt's German Deli<strong>

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><p>It had been decided that after Tino's father left around ten o'clock, it had been decided that they would meet at around noon, walk to the deli down the street, and have lunch. Their plans ended up happening about half an hour early when Tino decided he was bored out of his mind and walked the two blocks to Berwald's house to surprise the Swede. Now they were walking back, Tino balancing precariously on the raised garden wall that many of the houses had, due to the lawns of most of the houses being on a different level than the sidewalks.<p>

"B'careful," Berwald mumbled, grabbing Tino's hand as he almost fell off the wall. Tino smiled at him, and went a bit slower—for all of ten seconds. Berwald shook his head at the reckless Finn, but decided he didn't quite mind it when it was Tino.

"Hmm…so, what do you think Mathias needs to know about Nikolai?" Tino remarked, squinting down the street. The sun was bright and piercing, even with the shade of the trees. He stopped for a second, and Berwald stopped as well. Then Tino rested his hands on Berwald's shoulders hopped down. Berwald helped with his hands on Tino's hips, and the other blonde smiled at him in thanks.

"Not sure," Berwald said as Tino hopped down, then continued once they started walking again, "What d'ya know about yer brother?"

"Actually, not a whole lot," Tino hummed, crossing his arms and once again frowning forward. "We only met when we were seven. Our parents married when we were eight, and for the first couple of years we kind of avoided each other. Then Nikolai's mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and he needed comfort so that's what I did. She died when we were thirteen. Nikolai kind of separated himself from everyone after that; we've never been really close."

Berwald considered this for a moment, before nodding and suggesting, "Well, go from what y'know and build on that."

"Hmm, sounds like a plan," Tino agreed. They had reached his house now, and Tino hopped up the stairs and unlocked the door. He was relieved by the gush of air-conditioning that hit him, and he said as much as he leaned against the wall and held up his hair, letting the air reach his neck. Berwald chuckled and leaned down to kiss the damp skin. Tino squirmed. "Don't do that, babe, I'm all sweaty!"

Berwald didn't care. To him, Tino was always soft and pretty. He muttered the equivalent to the Finn as he leaned in and nipped slightly at the tender skin. Tino protested, demanding he not leave a mark but still holding his hair up.

After a few minutes, Tino mumbled, "Berwald…if you leave a mark my dad will know. B-besides…we're not here to…mm…" Tino blushed and closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. Berwald pulled back and let the Finn calm. There was a slight red mark, but it would fade fast and a small bit of foundation would probably cover it up just fine. Berwald knew Nikolai had to own some—he was a performer, after all, or so he'd gained from Tino.

"Y'alright?" Berwald asked of Tino, squeezing his hands gently. Tino was still looking kind of disoriented, and Berwald was rather worried that he'd gone too far too soon.

"Y-yeah," Tino replied. He blushed slightly and murmured, "Sorry. We should probably go upstairs. I feel kind of bad about snooping, you know, but we certainly can't ask Nikolai about these things directly and it's the only way I can think of to learn anything about him. Come on, his room's upstairs."

"Kay," Berwald replied, following Tino upstairs. Nikolai's room was average—if anything, it was slightly too average. It didn't really have any of the personal touches a normal teenager would put in their bedroom. There was a desk with a computer on it, and a few pictures which Berwald guessed was personalization. A dresser with nothing on top, a nicely made bed, and blank walls. No posters even—it was incredibly odd.

"Hmm," Tino mumbled, glancing around the room. "He must be packing already. Usually he has more pictures around here…a poster or two, as well." He trailed around the room, to the dresser. "Let's see, if I was a keepsake, where would I be? Sock drawer?" Tino opened it and reached in, but found nothing. "Under the bed?" He wandered over and crawled under, while Berwald came to the dresser and glanced inside. He could very clearly see the bottom of the drawer, which was about six inches deep. However, he realized, the shape of the drawer would suggest that it would be at least eight.

Something was up.

"This drawer's not deep 'nough," Berwald muttered, continuing to stare at the drawer—glare at it, really, as if he could intimidate it into revealing its secrets to him. Tino crawled out from under the bed, dust dotted in his hair, and sat back on his heals.

"Huh?"

"I think this drawer's got a fake bott'm," Berwald muttered, and began taking socks out of it. Tino hurried over and held his arms out, piling as many in his arms as possible before making a basket with his shirt and piling them in there, instead. Once all the socks were out, Berwald tapped the drawer and listened to the sound it made.

Definitely hollow.

"Put those down 'n help me w'this," Berwald muttered, looking for a corner cut out of the fake bottom. It was the back left corner, which made it hard to find, but he hooked his finger under it once it had been located and pulled up. It moved, and Tino gasped but quickly worked his smaller fingers underneath it as well, helping Berwald to pull it up and out of the drawer.

"They're…clothes," Tino muttered, staring. He pulled one out, which turned out to be a pair of dark was jeans, ripped at the knees. "These wouldn't fit Nikolai anymore—they're way too small. They'd be skin tight if he put them on."

"Maybe that's the point," Berwald muttered, frowning at them. He pulled out another article. This was a tiny tank top that, on someone like Tino's brother, would have revealed the midriff. He held it up for Tino's examination, and Tino's eyebrows fraternized with his hairline as he pulled something else. Dropped them immediately. "Berwald, are those…"

"Looks like panties."

Tino blushed. "Shut up! I was trying not to say it!" He buried his face in his hands, blushing horribly. He was so embarrassed just to be staring at these—he didn't know whether to cry to scream or get angry or what. Eventually, he settled with a gasp of, "Why would Nikolai have these things in his drawer? I…I'm so confused!"

"I don't think they've been worn in a long time," Berwald muttered, holding out the shirt. "Smell it. Smells kinda musty."

"I'd rather not," Tino squeaked, but at Berwald's exasperated stare he leaned in and sniffed delicately at the shirt. Honestly, sometimes Tino could be so prissy that it wasn't even funny. His nose wrinkled. "You're right. Like dust and faded fabric softener." Turning back to the drawer, he sifted through it—finding plenty more disturbing pieces of clothing—before he came to something rather solid that most likely was not a piece of clothing. He found the corner and pulled it out. It turned out to be a black box, about the dimensions of the usual piece of notebook paper. Opening it, he pulled them out and frowned. They seemed to be letters. Most were addressed to someone named Anna. It didn't take Tino long to remember that Nikolai's mother was named Anna.

"These…are all dated after she died," Tino mumbled, sitting down on the bed and picking up the one on the top of the pile.

January 30th, 2008

_Dear Anna,_

_I broke up with Francis today. Well, not broke up—more like, I nullified our deal. So that means I'm probably going to fail biology, but I don't really care…Not if it means I can be rid of him. He tricked me, Mom. He said there was more in it for me than a good grade. But then…_

Tino couldn't read any longer. He flung the paper away from himself and gasped as he realized tears were coming down his face. Berwald went to pick up the paper, but Tino cried, "Berwald, don't! Okay? I don't want you to see that. We shouldn't have done this, I never wanted to know this about my brother! Please, can we just put everything back where it belongs and forget this ever happened? I…I don't want to do this anymore!" He went to stand up, and as he did so the tin of papers fell. He cursed and bent to pick them up, but the first thing his hand made contact with was a card. He started at it, his eyes boggling.

"This is a fake ID," Tino whispered. "I…this picture! Berwald, he was only fourteen in this picture!" Nikolai had always looked older than he was, but he definitely hadn't looked _of age_ when he was fourteen years old. "This…this is disgusting that any bar would look at this and think it was legit! I…I can't believe this!" He gathered up the papers haphazardly and flung them in the tin, then flung the tin and clothing back into the drawer. Berwald helped him put the slide back in the drawer, they tossed the socks back in, and Tino hightailed it out of the room.

"Tino! Tino, what's wrong?" Berwald hurried after, realizing that Tino had collapsed against the wall not far down the hall. He was sobbing desperately.

"That letter," Tino whispered into his knees. "It mentioned…it mentioned a Francis. And biology. Frances is the first name of one of the biology teachers, Mr. Bonnefoy! Nikolai was _having sex_ with him, Berwald! He was…he was…oh God, Berwald, when he was still a kid, when he was fourteen years old!"

Berwald knelt beside him, and stroked his hair. "Are y'sure?"

"Yes!" Tino said, lifting his red face out of his knees to roll his eyes and toss his hands about. "There wasn't much mistaking it, Berwald!"

"Well…'least it's not happening 'nmore…huh?"

"That's not the point," Tino whimpered. "Those letters…they were all from the year of, and the year following his mother's death. I knew Nikolai was sad, and really devastated, but…I never realized that he was that messed up back then. I never realized that…that he needed help that badly. I never saw it!"

Berwald kissed Tino's forehead as he shook and dissolved into an incoherent mess of sobs and tears and snot. Stroking his head, Berwald murmured, "Maybe…he didn't want you to."

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><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: I'm sorry if any of you hate me for the twist I took with the story…I'm a drama writer at heart, although most of what I write is fluff. It's going to get better, I promise. And for all of you who are probably (For completely legitimate reasons) thinking, "OMG, YOU'RE TOTALLY RUINING NORWAY'S CHARACTER!" I will say this to defend myself: Grief will make a person do crazy things. I have first-hand experience of it. I've watched a really good friend almost destroy herself by doing something very similar after she lost a parent. When you think everyone you love doesn't love you anymore—and that's a feeling that a lot of people get after they lose someone close like a parent or a sibling—you find yourself incapable of going to them for comfort. And so you turn to others for comfort.

And some, unfortunately, confuse physicality for love and comfort.

Sorry to go all public service announcement on you guys! Next chapter will go back to Nikolai and Mathias. Also, I'm terribly sorry this chapter is coming so late. My grandma, as mentioned above, was very sick and I've been at her house with no internet. I just started living at my own house again, like, this afternoon. Please accept this incredibly long chapter as my apology! *Bow, bow, bow* GOMENASAI GOMENASAI!

:3

-Lynn


	6. Chapter 6: Renaissance Not Fair

**Notes**: Once again, thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews! I'm going to be at JaFax this coming weekend, so please excuse me if the next chapter is a little late. This one shouldn't be late—I hope. *Sweatdrop* And if it is, please put it up to my own epic procrastination. It exists, and _man_ does it kill a person. Although, I'll warn—I haven't slept for two days. I watched Marble Hornets all in one go on Friday (Because my friend told me to watch it in daylight and I knew I would chicken out if I stopped watching.) and I had so many nightmares last night that I gave up on sleeping at about four o'clock in the morning. If you don't know what Marble Hornets is, and you like scaring yourself, then you should go watch it! It's great fun, but scary as hell after dark. XD

**Pairing:** Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: Hong Kong/Iceland. Also, I've done something weird. I know earlier I was going back and forth between FrUK and USUK, but then I made that twist in the last chapter—which, honestly, I didn't even know was going to happen until about halfway through writing that chapter. I'd been kind of playing with the idea of something like that going on since the beginning, but the way it turned out was far from my original intention. As such, I have decided this—There will be no FrUK. Instead, I've put England with someone you can either see as an OC, or fem!China. If you're confused…oh, you'll just see. *shot*

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, mentions of underage drinking, idealistically sensitive material, swearing.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts are the property of Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor do I own Taming of the Shrew, writing by William Shakespeare, or Ten Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchestone Pictures.

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: Renaissance (Not) Fair<strong>

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><p><strong>6:00 AM that same morning; Kirkland Residence<strong>

* * *

><p>Mathias, surprisingly, was not all that hard to wake up. Xang had no trouble at all getting the Dane out of bed in the morning—and the Asian boy had honestly prepared an arsenal of things to throw at him. But when his alarm went off, Mathias was up and out of bed before even Xang was. This was surprising, and as Xang stretched and yawned, he said, "To be honest, I was expecting you to be one of those late-sleepers. Hard to wake up and Hell until they had coffee, you know?"<p>

Rolling his eyes, Mathias stood up and shook out his long limbs—cramped from being on Xang's floor all night. "Why does everyone think that? Honestly, I've been getting up at six o'clock in the morning since I was five years old. I may not enjoy the whole getting up part, but I like the morning well enough once I'm awake. The only time I ever slept in was when I was at my grandmother Køhler's house, and that's just because she spoiled me like no one's business and never woke me up."

"Oh, yeah; you told me about your dad. Ran the house like a bootcamp, right? God, how did you even deal with that?" Xang sighed and wandered over to his drawers, while Mathias picked up his overnight back and rummaged through it. The only reason behind staying at Xang's house was that Mathias lived a good ten miles out of the way for the way they had to go to intercept Nikolai and Ice at the fairgrounds. It would take an extra ten minutes to get there that Xang hadn't wanted to waste. Apparently, time was of the essence and if they got there too late, Nikolai would be able to slip into the crowd and completely ignore Mathias that way.

Or, that's what Xang's informant (Ice) had told him in one of the numerous telephone conversations and text sessions they'd been having. They were frequent, and almost annoyingly so.

"I didn't really know any different," Mathias mumbled, shrugging. "I mean, wherever my dad was stationed there was always a high school in the immediate area, or on the base. So I usually ended up attending school with five hundred kids all exactly like me. I mean, aside from the moving…it wasn't all that hard. Dad was paid really well, and the army gives lots of good benefits. Mom didn't have to work, which is good because her English isn't that great. Speaking, that is—she can write and read it just fine. Right now she has a job translating for some shipping company…"

"Hmm…still, it seems like a hard way to grow up," Xang mumbled. "So, there's a shower in the bathroom downstairs. Do you want to use that one, or do you want to use the one upstairs? There's not much of a difference, aside from color scheme. Oh, and the one upstairs adjoins to my parents' bedroom, but they know we'll be wandering around this morning and it's not like you have to walk through it to get into the bathroom."

"Uhm…" Mathias shrugged. "The one downstairs, I guess." Mathias had met Xang's dad yesterday only to get a shock when he realized it was his American Literature teacher. Now he thought about it, he really should have made the connection—but Kirkland was a rather common last name and Xang didn't look _anything_ like his professor.

(Although, now Mathias noticed, they _did_ seem to share a trait involving incredibly bushy eyebrows.)

All things considered, though, Mathias had only been uncomfortable for about an hour. Mr. Kirkland appeared to be a lot calmer when in the setting of his own home, and his wife appeared very capable of keeping him in check, even if he did get disgruntled. Sometime during the night, Xang had mumbled something akin to, "Uncle Yao learned all he knows from Mom."

"Uncle Yao?"

"Yeah. Mr. Wang. You have him; he's your mythology teacher."

Mathias jumped a mile in the air. "That guy's your _Uncle_?" This family just kept getting more and more eccentric. "You could have told me this crap when you were showing me around that first day, Xang! This is the first time I'm hearing any of this!"

"It never came up."

"Work it in! You could have said, "You have Mr. Wang. Oh hey, by the way—he's my Uncle." Or something! I dunno…this is weird…"

"Is it?"

Mathias had given up at that point, and endured the rest of the slightly awkward night. Long story short, Xang's family was nice enough, but the idea of doing something to disrupt his volatile teacher's sleeping patterns honestly scared the hell out of Mathias. And if Mrs. Kirkland was anything like her bother, she too would not appreciate being woken up.

"Okay," Xang chuckled, looking down and gathering his clothing against his chest. "I got it, you're scared of my dad. I'll take the upstairs. But really; both of them sleep like rocks. You'll be fine. Dad sleeps through his alarm clock all the time, which is why he always requests first hour as his prep period."

"Hmm." Mathias raised an eyebrow at Xang, as if he wasn't quite so sure, and proceeded out of the door and tip-toed downstairs. It was going to be a nice day, Mathias could tell; the light coming through the gossamer curtains in the living room was ethereal blue and he could hear birds chirping. A glance outside once he got in the bathroom told him that there was not a cloud present in the sky, and there was a nice breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees. A nice day to spend outside.

He spent as little time under the rain of the shower as possible. He hated treading on other people's hospitality by wasting anything, be it the food they put on his plate or the water in their hot water tank. This policy had almost killed him last night when Xang's mother kept heaping extra helpings of their meal onto his plate—something hearty containing noodles, all matter of Chinese and native vegetables, and a spicy sauce. She'd kept muttering to Xang in Chinese (And he knew she didn't have to; later on in the night, when they were all talking in Xang's living room, she'd spoken almost unaccented English) and Mathias had desperately wanted to know what she was saying. But, judging by the fact that she kept glancing over and smiling at him, Mathias decided it could be nothing bad.

In reality, Xang had told him later, she'd kept muttering a Chinese proverb something similar to, "Eating well gives one strength" and then proceeded to explain to the boy that, if he ate more (like Mathias) he probably wouldn't be so small and fine-boned.

Xang had then replied in Chinese, every time, "I got it from you, not my eating habits."

Mathias also didn't like using other people's appliances when he didn't have to, which is why he didn't dry his hair like he usually did. Just towel-dried it to the best of his ability and spiked it after that. It would make his hair look a bit darker, and probably make the spikes a bit sharper than usual, but it would have to do for today.

When he came out of the bathroom, bag slung over his shoulder, he found Xang talking to his mom in the kitchen. They were talking in Chinese, so Mathias had no idea what they were talking about, but Xang's mother appeared to be pouring something into a thermos.

"Uhm…good morning," Mathias said during a lull in conversation, and both mother and son turned to stare at him. Mrs. Kirkland smiled.

"Good morning," she said. "Sleep well?"

"Oh, you know—as good as can be expected. It's just kind of hard to sleep on the floor."

Xang's mother rounded on him. "You made him sleep on the floor?"

"He wanted to! Mom, I swear to God I asked him six or seven times if he wanted to have the bed but he kept telling me no!"

"Hmm." Xang's mother narrowed her eyes at him, frowning deeply. Mathias had no idea what was going on, but Mrs. Kirkland eventually seemed satisfied (Although disgruntled) and turned back to the counter, where she had a pot of something. It wasn't coffee—it was far too clear and pale for that. Whatever it was, it was the same thing Xang had in his thermos, and as he stared Xang's mother filled a separate one with the same drink and held it out to Mathias. "Here you go; it'll keep you awake and hold you off until you can eat something substantial."

"What is it?" Mathias asked, taking the thermos.

"Green tea," Xang said, shaking his own thermos. "She makes it strong, so watch out, but it's really good."

"Oh…well, thank you very much," Mathias said, taking the thermos with a smile. "You didn't have to."

"Oh no, it's fine," Mrs. Kirkland said, shaking her head. "I always end up having to make two pots anyway; Xang's father drinks so much tea. In the summertime, we put the leftovers in a pitcher with ice."

"Iced tea," Xang hummed. He pushed himself off the counter then, shaking his head, and started towards the door. "Okay Mom, we're leaving. Uhm…have a nice day."

"Xang," she called; quietly, demurely, but obviously with threat. Xang turned slowly, and she raised her eyebrows. "Aren't you forgetting something? I believe there's something you're supposed to do every morning before walking out the door, and you certainly didn't do it yet."

Xang sighed and hung his head, obviously embarrassed, before trooping back over to the counter where his mother stood and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek. Immediately, she beamed and squeezed him back. Kissed his forehead and patted his shoulder. "Be careful."

"Yup." Xang, whose face resembled a tomato, pulled away from his mother and turned around, hissing a 'come on' to Mathias as he passed. Mathias chuckled and followed. Honestly, the scene had been cute. Mathias was honestly a sucker for touching family events like that. He'd never really had them, so he kind of figured the obsession was borne from jealousy. But Xang and his mom really were funny, both in the way they bounced off each other and their uncanny likeliness—two short, fine-boned Asians with big brown eyes and similar short hairstyles. (Well, long for Xang.)

"You're so short," Mathias chuckled as they got in the car. He couldn't resist—the guy was equal with his mother!

"Shut up!" Xang huffed and ducked into the car.

"How am I supposed to get to this place?" Mathias remarked as he started the car.

"From what Ice told me," Xang sighed, making himself comfortable for the extended drive, "you just drive out of the subdivision and onto the main road—Outland Drive. And then take a left onto Queen Road when you get to it. Then drive straight until you get to a big sign that says, 'Lake County Fairgrounds.' It's near the lake."

"Okay," Mathias sighed, putting the car into drive. "Let's get this show on the road, yeah?"

* * *

><p><strong>8:07 AM, Lake County Fairgrounds<strong>

* * *

><p>"You play violin?" Mathias asked, delighted to see he'd found just the person he was looking for without even having to look. He'd been sitting here, waiting for Xang to come back with Ice, when Nikolai came wandering this way, the instrument in his hand. Mathias hadn't recognized him at first—it was hard to tell who it was in the costume and make-up. Nikolai had somehow transformed himself into a perfect example of the mythical creature he was portraying. Beautiful, pale, porcelain skin and piercing, bright blue eyes. Contacts, Mathias knew—Nikolai had a pair of dark, seductive navy blue eyes. It certainly had not been these ice-blue orbs that had been making his heart skip a beat every time he looked into them.<p>

His slender body was dressed in equally beautiful, flowing robes of pale blue and white. Mathias knew he was supposed to be an elf—the ears gave it away—but at the moment, he was looking more like an angel.

Well, except for the glare twisting his pretty features into something terrifying. He was gripping his violin neck so hard that Mathias feared for both the instrument and Nikolai's fingers, and as Mathias watched he began to shake.

"Did Ice tell you?" growled Nikolai. Without waiting for an answer, he threw his head back and clenched his fist. "Damnit! I'm going to fucking kill him!"

"No!" Mathias cried, standing up and holding his hands up in front of him. Nikolai's gaze flew once again to him, and he made a face of confusion that said, 'What are you doing, you imbecile?' Mathias had had this looked focused on him enough times to know what it meant, and also predict what would happen next—Nikolai would walk off.

"I-it wasn't Ice! Uhm…it was…it was Xang, y'know? They've got something going on—I'm not really sure what it is, but…ah…Xang dragged me along, because I drive and his dad couldn't take him today. And, uhm, I decided to stay for a while and see if I found anything interesting. But nothing's really going on right now, so I'm just sitting around and waiting for things to start. I…Ice didn't know that I'd be here, and I didn't know that you'd be here. S-so, y'know, don't blame him."

For a moment, Nikolai stared at him with a very deadpan look—or lack thereof—on his face. Then he rolled his eyes and snarled, "Has anyone ever told you how much you _suck_ at lying?"

Mathias scratched the back of his neck. "Uhm, yeah actually…"

Nikolai rolled his eyes again and spun around, stomping back from whence he came. This triggered Mathias into action; lunging forwards and grabbing Nikolai's wrist. The Norwegian boy stopped, spun around, and tried to jerk his slim wrist out of Mathias' tight grip. "How many times do I have to tell you not to touch me? _Let go_!"

"Just listen to me, please," Mathias said, looking imploringly into Nikolai's oddly-colored orbs. "Don't blame your friend, okay? Xang knew you'd be here, and I knew you'd be here, but Ice just thought that Xang was coming. He doesn't know I'm here—and that's the honest truth. I…I came to see you, okay?"

Nikolai tossed his head in the other direction, showing Mathias the side of his face and no longer meeting his eyes. Glared at the ground. "Why? So you can terrorize me?" He ripped his wrist out of Mathias' grip, and now glared defiantly into the other's eyes. "You know, I commend you. I really do. Usually no one tries so hard. You've gone out of your way to make me feel like an idiot. And that? That takes dedication. Well done."

"Why do you think that?" Mathias asked, frowning deeply. "Seriously, what's made you think that every guy who shows an interest in you is out to embarrass you? I'm not…I really…I like you a lot."

Nikolai snorted. "Yeah? Why. Even I know I've given you no reason to." He furrowed his brows. "And…you've only been at our school, like two weeks. Who likes someone that quickly? I'm sorry, but I just don't believe you." But his tone was more civil; and he was calmer. To Mathias, he was almost screaming, _'Convince me! I can't believe you if you don't!_'

Unbeknownst to Mathias—and maybe even himself—that was exactly what Nikolai was trying to say.

"I…don't really know myself," mumbled Mathias.

With that, Nikolai scoffed and stomped off. "Get lost. Or stay far away from me."

This time, Mathias did not follow. Nikolai was royally pissed off, and Mathias had just completely ruined any chance he had of getting through to the other boy today. He raked his hands through his hair as he watched Nikolai stomp out of view, and spun around to kick the tree stump he'd been sitting on. "Fuck! God damnit! Shit, shit, shit!" With every curse, he delivered another blow to the Maplewood, before slumping onto the abused stump and resting his head in his hands. Rubbed his face and took in a huge, defeated sigh. "Man, there are so many things I could have said…"

But Nikolai always left him tongue-tied. He'd never been rendered so speechless by one person, and he honestly did not know why it was Nikolai. Maybe it was their mutual reception of unwarranted cruelty. Maybe it was because Nikolai _was _so unattainable. Or maybe it was because when Mathias looked into his eyes, he honestly did not see malicious intent. He saw anger, sure, but never a genuine want to hurt people. It reminded Mathias of what he used to see in his own eyes, and that was frightening.

What Mathias had seen in his own eyes was his own fear of proximity. Fear to be close to anyone, for fear that they might hurt him. His father had always fed him the idea that everyone was out to get him; everyone that tried to get close to him just wanted something from him. And Mathias used to be so terrified that that was true that'd distanced himself from people completely. It wasn't until when he was older, high school, that he realized his father had just been spouting self-serving shit to turn his son into a clone of himself.

Well, no offense to General Køhler, but Mathias refused to grown up to be an old, mean, alcoholic wife-abuser.

But he really feared for Nikolai. Mathias didn't know who had been feeding him the idea that people weren't to be trusted—Or, that no one liked him—but someone needed to contradict them, and soon. Mathias was aching to do it; if only Nikolai would let him.

No matter what, Mathias realized that he was probably not going to be making any progress today. All the same, he couldn't just go to Xang and tell him that his day was ruined. At least he would have fun with Ice.

He'd just have to stick around, he decided. But somehow avoid Nikolai at the same time. This…would not be easy.

* * *

><p><strong>Noon the same day<strong>

* * *

><p>"Is it just me, or does it look like it's going to rain?"<p>

Nikolai glanced over at Ice, whom had his face turned up towards the sky, staring at it with concern. They were behind Ice' merchandise table. Nikolai had taken a break from playing to help out with his friend's sales. Xang was also there, helping out as well. He'd been making change for the two, whom certainly weren't the best at math. Nikolai had to admit; the Asian boy was tolerable. He'd never had much to do with Xang, which was why he had been wary of him at the beginning of the day. But when Xang had revealed himself to be rather quiet and unobtrusive, Nikolai had come to find that he didn't really mind his presence.

"Mmm…probably," Nikolai mumbled worriedly, watching as the sky seemed to get more gray before their very eyes. "Er…I'll help you start disassembling. Xang, there's a woman over there dressed in lavender. She's the head Elvin Council member. She also happens to be the one in charge—go tell her that Nikolai thinks it would be a good idea for us to relocate under the tents."

Xang stared into the crowd, and nodded once he located the woman he was looking for. "Okay…you don't need any help disassembling?"

"No," Ice assured, smiling and already loading the several dozen bird trinkets he still had left into the boxes he'd carried them here in. "Go ahead. Nikolai and I can get these, no problem. Just find us again once we're set up inside the tent; the fair doesn't stop for rain, and we still need our accountant."

Smiling slightly (Goofily, Nikolai would add) Xang nodded and said, "If you're sure."

These were the product of no less than seven months of Ice's favorite hobby, so Nikolai was sure to be very careful with them as he loaded them and carried them into one of three big tents that had been set up for just this reason. It wasn't rare at all for it to suddenly start raining in this part of the state; it was far enough north that they were inching into Pacific North-West territory. As such, they always had their back-up plan of several large, white tents set up on the grounds.

"So…" Nikolai mumbled as they carried the first armload of boxes in. People seemed to have started realizing the impending gloomy weather as well, for as they walked through the dealer's section of the fair, they saw many others packing up and heading towards the tents. "You and Xang…huh?"

"Shut up," Ice mumbled, blushing and trying to hide his red face in the box he was carrying. Boxes, so it seemed, where not very effective in that regard. "I…I don't even know what's going on. I didn't even know who he was a week ago. Now we see each other all the time."

"Well, there's obviously a reason for that," Nikolai pondered. "I mean, if he was indifferent to your existence as well, then you wouldn't be hanging out. As it is, like you said; you're seeing more and more of each other. The way you were talking earlier, I pretty much gathered that there have been a couple of conversations that I wasn't around for. And I know you like him, Ice. I can see it on your face. You usually don't warm up to people so quickly."

"I'm better than you," Ice defended himself, scowling. "Or, oh, I'm sorry—is it that you just _never_ warm up to people."

"Exactly," Nikolai chuckling, glancing up as the first miniscule raindrop hit his face. "And there's a big difference between taking a long time to warm up to people, and never bothering to. Incase you haven't noticed, I never bother to."

"I don't know, alright?" Ice sighed. "I just feel really comfortable around him. And, you know—he's not hard on the eyes. And he's quiet, which is good. And he doesn't sit around and call my interests silly, even though I know he's not nearly as into it as he pretends to be for my sake. He even said he would come bird-watching with me the weekend after next. That's something not even _you_ will do, Nikolai."

"I don't like birds," Nikolai mumbled, for what must have been the millionth time in their long relationship. "They're unsanitary and noisy."

Ice huffed as they made it into the tent, where they met up with Xang about two minutes later, and set out to bring the last two boxes and the table into the tent. The table was a two-person job, even folded, and with Nikolai in some rather restricting clothing, it was better for him to carry the boxes than try helping with the table. He would undoubtedly have to walk backwards at some point if he did, and tripping over the long trails of his robe were a big risk.

Xang and Ice got way ahead of him somehow, even with one of them walking backwards. Perhaps it was the now-massive group of people all migrating into the tents, or the fact that his robes made it hard to walk. Either way, it was raining pretty hard by the time he neared the tent, and then his fortune had to take another turn for the worse—his foot landed in a hidden hole in the ground where the grass had grown level with the rest around. He cried out, trying to brace in such a way that Ice's merchandise would not take the brunt of the blow.

He never hit the ground.

Looking up when he realized this fact, and uncurling from around the boxes, he realized he was being held very securely in the arms of someone he'd rather _not_. Mathias stared down at him with concern, and had it not been for his own concern for the boxes in his arms, Nikolai would have shot away from the Dane and hit him over the head for good measure. As it was, he had no choice but to allow Mathias to set him upright.

"Are you okay?" Mathias mumbled, looking Nikolai up and down. Nikolai was uncomfortable with the gaze, but he knew that Mathias wasn't doing it for any other reason than to make sure he wasn't injured in some way. He couldn't rightfully yell at someone for being concerned and doing what was in their nature; even he wouldn't do that.

Plus, he suddenly realized. Mathias had _never _looked him up and down like for impure intentions. The other boy's eyes had never trailed dirtily over his form like so many others.

For some reason, this realization troubled Nikolai. He was still having a hard time coming up with a reason to hate the other boy, ever since Ice's rant on the subject the other day. Before, he'd been able to just loath the boy's existence without it bothering him or his conscience much. But then Ice had to go on about how Mathias really did like him, and how Nikolai should just give the other boy a chance and go for it for once in his life. After that, Nikolai had started having doubts.

Unfortunately, they had only been intensifying as Nikolai's initial reason (Or, assumption) for hating Mathias slipped farther and father out of his hands.

"I'm fine," Nikolai, mumbled, turning away from him and marching off in the other direction. Mathias hurried along beside him, pestering him about carrying one of the boxes for him. Nikolai groaned and eventually, to appease Mathias and save his own ears from the Dane's whining, he stopped and held out the boxes to Mathias. "Take the one on the top, for God's sake, and be careful. These are Ice's merchandise and if you break it you buy it."

"Okay," Mathias said, being very careful and lifting the box up. It was raining pretty good by now, and Nikolai could tell by the motion of the lake (You could see it through the trees from where they stood) that it was only going to start raining harder. They hurried.

When they got to where Ice had reassembled his table, Ice looked very surprised to see Mathias there. Nikolai scowled in a way that Ice knew to mean, "Don't. Say. A. Word." And he did not.

After setting down his part of the burden, Nikolai looked up at Ice and said, "Can you handle on your own for a while?"

"Yeah, sure," Ice said, setting up the birds in rows on the table. "You gonna go and play again?"

"Something like that," Nikolai mumbled, before turning around and starting off. He didn't noticed Mathias following him after a slight hesitation, nor Xang and Ice exchanging knowing looks.

Nikolai walked back into the changing tent and found his bag soon enough, changing back into his shorts and tee-shirt. He didn't want to ruin his costume with what he was about to do, and Ice's mother had worked so hard to make it for him. He took it off and changed back into his casual clothing.

One thing that no one knew about Nikolai (Not even Ice; not even his mother when she was alive) was that when it rained heavy like this, warm and without lightening, he liked to go out and stand in it. Just stand there, get soaked, and stare up at the sky. And right now, he knew he should be playing his violin or helping Ice. But this would probably be the last chance he got to do this for a while. By the time he got to Norway, it would already be getting cold. And though it rained almost perpetually in parts of Norway, cold rain just was not the same.

Barefoot and in his small shorts and fitted tee-shirt (He wasn't shy about exposing his body, and it was so hot out he had to wear something light to drive in) he stepped out of the tent and wandered deep into the woods, where he knew a clearing was. Got rained on, and stared at the sky.

Standing there alone in the rain as it cleansed the world, it was easy to imagine that he was communing with the angels. With his mother.

* * *

><p>Mathias had seen Nikolai go into the tent, and sat there for a few minutes debating whether he should follow the other boy in. However, by the time he decided that yes, he should, Nikolai was coming back out of the tent. In a tee-shirt and jeans, both small and incredibly flattering for his slender, effeminate frame. Mathias wondered, though, why Nikolai had changed and why he was now wandering around in the rain, in such skimpy clothing for it.<p>

For a while, Mathias followed Nikolai. He felt kind of bad about it, and he knew that he'd vowed not to bother the Norwegian again that day. But he'd been there when Nikolai was about to fall, and he'd be damned if he would have let that happen. And when he'd seen Nikolai leave the tent earlier instead of staying with the group, it had puzzled him and he wondered if Nikolai was hurt after all.

Now he was just confused.

Nikolai stopped in a clearing, where the lake was visible through the trees and the grass was thick and green from all the sunshine and rain it got. Nikolai was soaked through. Mathias, having gotten his raincoat out of his car when it showed signs of a downpour, was marginally dryer.

He should speak up soon. Even if he didn't want Nikolai to run away again, he especially didn't want the other boy to see him and think he was being just plain creepy. That would be incredibly counterproductive.

However, that was rendered obsolete when Nikolai turned around and spied Mathias watching him. He yipped and jumped a foot in the air, then got the most thunderous look on his face and cried, "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing? What, are you _stalking_ me now?"

"N-no," Mathias defended. "I just got here. I followed you because I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was worried."

"Well don't be, I'm fine," Nikolai snapped, folding his arms and turning back towards the lake. "Please, seriously, just stop bothering me. You and I both know you don't want to involve yourself with me."

"…Nikolai?" There were a lot of responses Mathias could give to that statement, but he chose to ignore all of them in favor of asking one of his burning questions. He drew closer, ever so slowly, as Nikolai refused to glance back again and stared at the lake.

"What?" he snapped.

"Uh…why are you out here?"

Nikolai scowled deeply, although Mathias could not see it. So much for his big old secret. "I like the rain, okay? Have since I was little. I like what it feels like and what it stands for." It was only a few seconds later that Nikolai realized that he'd said more than he ever meant to, and he cursed slightly under his breath. What _was_ it about Mathias? Why did this guy's mere presence make him run his mouth and second-guess himself so frequently? He'd never had second thoughts about judging a book by its cover and disliking someone on principle until after he'd met Mathias.

"What does it stand for, Nikolai?" Mathias asked, curious.

Nikolai huffed, and for a moment Mathias thought he would not get an answer. Then the other boy said, "The cleansing of the world, I suppose. It feels like everything is getting washed when it rains. Disinfected. It makes me feel clean for a little while." Immediately upon realizing what he'd just said, he snapped his mouth shut.

What the _fuck_ had come over him?

"God damnit!" Nikolai suddenly cried, kicking his leg out savagely. He rounded on Mathias and stomped up to him. "God damnit, what is it about you, huh? Why are you making me have all these second thoughts? Why are you making me…what the _fuck_ are you doing to me? I don't understand it! Here I am, _at this very second_, screaming at you like some lunatic and I have no idea why! I'm a quiet, reasonable person but for some reason, you just…Oooh, you make me so angry! But at the same time, you're…you're…" His nose scrunched, and for a second Mathias thought he was going to cry. Then, he spun around and the oddest, cutest squeak left his mouth.

A sneeze.

"Okay, you seriously shouldn't just be standing in the rain," mumbled Mathias, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around Nikolai's shoulders. The Norwegian wanted to shake it off—he really did, and stomp it into the mud for good measure. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself too. The jacket was big and warm and the cotton lining was comfortable.

It was a peace offering. Even Nikolai could see that. And right now, he was just emotionally unstable enough to accept it. For the moment.

"Come on," Mathias mumbled, leading the way back to the tents. He didn't try to grab Nikolai and drag him back. Just walked ahead, glancing back every once in a while to make sure Nikolai was okay.

"M…Mathias?" Nikolai mumbled, trying to scowl but only managing a vague look of unease. "Why?"

"Because," Mathias said. "The second I saw you, I thought two things: 'My God, he's beautiful.' and, 'He looks so sad. I want to see him smile.' I've thought about it since you asked earlier. It still isn't a good answer, but it's the best I could come up with." Mathias smiled and glanced back. "I bet you look even more beautiful when you smile."

Nikolai didn't even hear the last part. He was busy gapping. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. Sure, he'd been told he was easy on the eyes, and he knew he was. But, he'd never…

Suddenly, Nikolai was beside Mathias, still glaring intensely at the ground but looking intent on saying something. Mathias waiting, bated by silent, and it paid off.

"Køhler, I'm going to say this once and only once so listen good. Got it, stupid Dane?"

"Got it."

"You're persistent. It's annoying. But, I'll be honest, no one's ever gotten to me like you have. It's disconcerting, and it's pissing me off, and I'm more than a little…frightened." There he went; saying more and more things that he didn't want to. "But…I'm curious." He stopped, and for the first time in Mathias' memory actually voluntarily reached out and grabbed him. "Are you listening?"

"Yes." Mathias could barely handle the suspense.

"I will go on one date with you. _One, _Mathias. And _don't_ be surprised if I don't want to go on a second one. I don't…I don't _do_ dating, okay?"

"Don't worry, I'll bear with you," Mathias said, smiling with relief and utter ecstasy, and so many other emotions. But also to reassure Nikolai. "I…wow, really?"

"Don't do that, Mathias. I may just change my mind."

"Got it!" Mathias couldn't even let Nikolai's snappishness get him down. In fact, he could only find it cute at the moment. "So when, where?"

"Tomorrow," said Nikolai. "There's a party for the presenters at the fair. You can pick me up at my house and we can go."

"Okay," Mathias said, nodding and still grinning. "Ah…seven o'clock sound good for you?"

"Yes," Nikolai said, before turning on his heel and walking off. Mathias stood behind him and whooped, hopping up and down when he was sure Nikolai was out of earshot. If the grass wasn't soaked, he would have gotten down on his knees and thanked the Lord. As it was, he just screamed to the heavens and spun in elated circles.

Three hours later, when Nikolai got home, he realized he was still wearing Mathias' jacket.

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: I…don't really like this chapter, especially the end. But I guess it can't really be helped. Ah…I'll be at JaFax this coming weekend, so I'll probably be updating later than usual. I know I've failed at keeping a reasonable schedule so far, but please don't fret. I already have this story planned out; I know what's going to happen, mostly. It's just getting it typed and tying it all together that's the major bitch here.

Once again, I'm posting without a beta. (I'm looking for one, BTW, so if you're interested please PM me.) I got very little sleep last night so there are probably more mistakes than usual. Please point them out if you're one to notice those kinds of things, and I'm terribly sorry for any typos that might occur; I know they detract from the enjoyableness of the story. ^_^;;

Whatever, I hope what I'm doing is good for you guys. :D

-Lynn


	7. Chapter 7: Punch

A/N: This chapter…it will probably be extremely late. You see, I went to the con weekend before last…spent a few days recuperating and writing something for my friends, which I am most definitely not going to mention on this account…And then I started writing this…

And then I kind of realized that it's seven o'clock PM on a Thursday and I hadn't even started the story. Yes, that's right; I started this chapter on Thursday night. I'm hoping to have it done on Sunday, but we'll just see how that turns out. I'm really sorry about…kind of failing in the semi-regular updates section of things. I think I've kind of been all over the board, ranging from just under a week to almost two, but unless I go a really long time without posting, I'm probably not dead.

If I do…I may just be dead. Call the cops. Y'know that scene from Junjou Romantica where Akihiko passes out alone in his apartment while trying to meet a deadline and Aikawa and everyone at Marukawa Shoten doesn't figure it out for two or three days, then they storm the apartment and Aikawa starts telling the half-dead Akihiko to get his ass into gear and keep writing? Yeah. Something like that's probably going to happen.

**Dedication**: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to everyone in the Shuto Con Hetalia RP Group. They're my cosplay group, my second family, and some of my closest friends. They live all over the state and I don't see them often, and that kills me because I miss them so much! But hopefully some of them read this story (I already know of one; the Finland in the group, which makes her my wife as I'm our Sweden) and they see this and know how much I appreciate their love and support. :3

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Finland/Sweden

**Background Noise**: Hong Kong/Iceland

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, swearing, underage drinking, ideologically sensitive material. **There will be an excess of swearing in this chapter. I'm terribly sorry if you're offended, because I didn't intend to offend anyone.**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor to I own Taming of the Shrew, written by William Shakespeare, or 10 Thing I Hate About You, which is property of Touchstone Pictures. The only thing I own is the story below as it is written.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Punch<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Sorenson-Väinämöinen residence, 3:30 PM the next day<strong>

* * *

><p>"This is bad."<p>

Glancing to the side at the sudden groan, Berwald found Tino's head banged onto the kitchen table. It was Sunday, and their schedule today had looked much like that of yesterday. Today, however, it did not include snooping around in Nikolai's room; both of them had agreed that they'd found everything they could in that room. And even if they hadn't, neither of them wanted to find out what else was hiding in that room. It was bad enough right now.

As if to prove Berwald's musing, Tino grumbled, "When he came home last night, I couldn't even meet his eyes. I mean, there has to be a reasonable explanation, right? I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding…but I can't bring myself to be alone with him long enough to ask him! This really is bad, Berwald…" He told all of this to the table, and only when he was done talking did he move his eyes up to stare at Berwald's face. Confusion and worry clouded the big, violet doe eyes that Berwald so adored.

Berwald tapped the text book that Tino was slumped over. "You'll b' okay. Y'wanna stop fer t'day? Seems t'me that yer doing just fine now, d'ya still need the tutoring?"

"Not…really," Tino mumbled, staring at a sentence out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, you pretty much helped me tackle the problem within the first week. I just…I like this." Tino looked up and smiled. "I like being with you, pouring over books and talking in a language only you and I understand." There were other kids in the school that took Swedish, of course, but when it was just he and Berwald talking in quiet whispers, it was easy to believe that they were the only two who could.

"Well…that doesn't have to stop." Berwald spoke in Swedish now, and with the absence of his accent his voice became less gravely. The other man actually had a very pleasing, baritone voice. It was just speaking English, and his own insecurity in his accent that made him mumble and sound gruff. Tino had a slight Finnish accent—he'd lived in Finland until he was five. But it was nothing compared to Berwald's, whom had only come to America two years ago to live with an aunt and finish his studies in America.

Like many Swedes and citizens of other nations that taught English as mandatory second language, the Swede's written English was immaculate, and he could read it just fine. But his thick accent and the fact that he'd never really _spoken_it all that much at home meant that his pronunciation was incredibly off.

Tino's Finnish accent came out when he was speaking Swedish, though, and Berwald had told him many times that Swedes thought a Finnish accent speaking their language was one of the cutest things you could ever hear. And Berwald, it would seem, was no exception to that. It made Tino smile thinking about it, and before he knew it a little grin had curled its way into his face. In Swedish, sweetly and slowly, he murmured, "I'm glad."

Berwald watched as Tino rose from his seat and wound around the table. He placed one leg on either side of Berwald's knee and lowered himself down, wrapping his arms around Berwald's neck. Tino smiled, and the Swede felt his heart flutter. Never had he thought Tino would smiled at _him_ like that, let alone perch himself on his knee like he belonged there, wrap his arms around Berwald's neck and play with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

It amazed him. What also amazed him was how natural, how _right_ it felt.

"Hey," Tino whispered, drawing Berwald's attention to his words rather than his face. Berwald glanced into the Finn's eyes, and Tino rested their foreheads together. "What's going to happen after graduation? I'm moving to Boston soon after."

Berwald would like to say that he hadn't thought about this much. Unfortunately, that would be a lie. It was pretty much the only thing that had been on his mind for a week and a half. The moment the afterglow of the initial commencement of their relationship faded away, Berwald made the realization that it could just as soon be ripped from his fingers. They graduated in less than three weeks, and Berwald's mother was expecting him to come back to Sweden and go to college there.

The only reason she'd sent him to America was because it would look good on a transcript, and later a resume… He hadn't really known what to think for a long time. He could stay in America, but then what if the relationship with Tino didn't work out? But what if he went back to Sweden, and missed the change of something that could have been wonderful?

In the end, there was really only one conclusion to make. Stay with the boy that he'd been in love with for a year. It had actually turned out not to be that hard of a decision.

"Well," sighed Berwald, still in Swedish. He wrapped his arms around the small of Tino's back, and pulled him against him. Tino shimmied forward a bit until he was more straddling Berwald's thigh, and he kissed Berwald's cheek before settling back down. "I'd have to go back to Sweden and renew my visa. And that could take a few months."

"Mmm-hmm," Tino murmured.

"But it wouldn't be too hard to do it. And they have trade schools everywhere, even in Boston."

"…mmm-hmm," Tino mumbled again, brows furrowing in that classic are-you-saying-what-I-think-you're-saying way.

"And it probably wouldn't be too hard to convince my mother that staying here and going to college here would be better than going back to Sweden. Even if I ended up going back to Sweden later, it would look good on a resume that I studied in America." It wouldn't be an internationally lauded university like Tino's, but it would be something. Employers in Sweden ate things like foreign exchange programs and studying abroad up.

"Really?" Tino asked, sitting up straight. "And…and you'd be okay with that? You'd be okay with changing your plans just to be with me, even though our relationship is so new?" At Berwald's nod, Tino smiled and leaned in to give him a small peck. "Now I know why I feel so lucky every time I'm with you."

Berwald chuckled, ducking his head shyly. Oh, Tino was so wrong. Berwald was the lucky one. But in the interest of not letting this dissolve into some cliché, fluffy mock-argument, he simply leaned in and kissed Tino again. Tino put his fingers through Berwald's hair, opening his mouth against the Swede's. Berwald did the same, and let their tongues meet and explore each other's mouths.

Pulling back after a moment, Tino cleared his throat and tried to force his blush down. Failed at it. He mumbled something, not meeting Berwald's eyes, and he was just so cute that Berwald couldn't help but he terribly amused. He moved his head around, trying to see into Tino's eyes, and said, "Hmm?"

"Uhm…I said do you want to move to the couch?" Tino whispered. "It's more comfortable." No one was expected to be home for at least another hour, and Tino wasn't going to pass this chance up. He may have never been in relationships much—he'd been in one or two behind his father's back, but never anything serious—but he knew what he wanted, and at the moment a heady make-out session with Berwald sounded simply wonderful.

Berwald hummed and nodded after a moment, blushing. Tino stood up and headed into the living room. Berwald watched for a moment, as Tino's shapely thighs and bum moved out of the room. Then he quickly rose and joined Tino on the couch, where Tino rose to straddle his lap once more. Both inexperienced teens blushed, having the same thought: _Just what am I doing_?

But at the same time, it felt right. And as Tino rested his arms on the back of the sofa and hesitantly leaned in to kiss Berwald again, Berwald placed a comforting, encouraging hand on Tino's back and pulled him in with the other hand.

Slowly, they got accustom to the feeling. Tino adjusted himself several times, trying to get comfortable, and eventually he was. The wiggling definitely did not leave Berwald unaffected however, and he hoped against hope that Tino didn't feel the stirring underneath his belt.

Luck was hardly ever on Berwald's side, though, and of course Tino _had_ to feel it. He knew he had, right when the Finn froze and broke away very slowly. At first, it looked as if he wasn't quite sure what was going on. Then Berwald realized the look on his face wasn't confusion; it was indecision. Probably thinking about whether to mention it or not. Berwald could hardly bear the embarrassment, and before he could stop himself he blurted, "Tino, I…"

"It's okay," Tino whispered, shaking his head. "Uhm…me too." His indecision seemed to come to an end then, because he suddenly looked determined. He took Berwald's big hand in his own and murmured, "Y-you can…touch me, if you want?"

Berwald's body suddenly felt incredibly hot, and he wouldn't be surprised if his face resembled something like a tomato or cherry. All the same, he bashfully nodded and let Tino place his hand against the front of his jeans. The feel of his boyfriend, even through the jeans, made Berwald feel desperately aroused.

Biting his lip, Tino whispered, "Can I…?" and Berwald nodded, although to himself it seemed frantic and all too quick. But Tino just giggled in the way Berwald recognized as saying, 'You're just too cute,' and Berwald let it go. Instead, he covered his face with his hand and tried not to make a sound as Tino unbuttoned the fly on his jeans and slunk his hand underneath, and underneath his cotton boxer shorts as well. He had no idea why, but he was so desperately embarrassed.

If the blush on Tino's face was any indication, so was he.

Vaguely, Berwald heard a click and a creak from far off in the house. He figured it was just the house settling. It was a bit old, and his mind wasn't fit for thinking that much at the moment. So he just went with that explanation as he settled deeper into the sofa, blushing but unable to stop his verbal reactions to Tino's ministrations.

Then Tino happened to look over Berwald's shoulder, and what he saw there made him freeze and turn completely white. Berwald was confused until he looked at Tino's face, at which time he immediately thought the worst.

The person behind him was Tino's father. Tino's father had walked in on them doing…doing _this_. Tino's father was going to kill him.

"Nikolai," Tino whispered.

Berwald had a hard time deciding if that was better or worse. When Berwald saw Nikolai stomp into the living room, grab Tino by the wrist, and jerk him bodily off the couch, Berwald decided it was probably worse. Not only was he, Berwald, going to die, but Tino would probably be staring death in the face as well. Nikolai looked furious, and Berwald quickly fixed himself and tried to get in-between the brothers; both, at this point, screaming at the top of their lungs.

"What the fuck, Tino? WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Fucking _let go of me_, Nikolai! God damnit! It's not what it fucking looks like! Calm down!"

"Calm down? _Calm down_? How the _fuck_ am I supposed to calm down when I just came through the door and see my brother; _my younger brother_ with his _fucking hands_ down some guy's pants? _How the fuck am I supposed to react to that_?"

"Well you could start by not dragging me around like a psychopath! And you have _no right_ to me screaming at me like this, Nikolai—"

"The fuck I do—!"

"—_no fucking right_…!"

"And you!" Nikolai rounded on Berwald, unleashing the full power of his fury upon him. "If you're not out of this fucking house in ten seconds, I am going to call the cops and tell them you tried to rape my brother."

"Oh, you wouldn't _FUCKING DARE_!" Tino shrieked, grabbing a handful of Nikolai's hair and jerking him backwards. Nikolai did a complete one-eighty, barely keeping balanced on his heel, and stared at Tino in shock for a moment. Even Tino looked shocked. Then Nikolai's face contorted in fury and he reared back, slapping Tino hard across the face. The Finn, whom was unbalanced anyhow from their tussle, fell against the sofa, clutching his face.

"You," Nikolai hissed, glaring at Berwald. "Leave. Now."

Berwald stared at Tino, whose face was buried in the sofa. He wanted so badly to ignore Nikolai and help his poor boyfriend, but Tino looked up and shook his head. "Please, Ber. Just go." The look in Tino's eyes left no room for question, and Berwald slowly walked towards the door.

Still, he did not feel comfortable leaving Tino alone in that house with his volatile brother. God only knew what would happen.

* * *

><p>The silence was deafening. Nikolai stood over his bother, as the Finn's shoulders heaved with sobs. Guilt was churning in his stomach and making him feel sick and disgusting. He had no idea what had come over him; all he knew, was that when he walked through the door he'd had the most awful flashback to his own life three years ago. Back when his life was a living hell and he'd fooled around so often to get some affection, and find a reason to exist.<p>

He hadn't realized for a long time that being someone's sex toy wasn't a reason to exist.

"Tino…," Nikolai whispered, laying a hand on Tino's shoulder. Tino slapped it away—literally slapped it, and rose his head out of the couch cushions to deliver a glare in Nikolai's direction. And the Norwegian's heart almost stopped, because for a second he thought he saw genuine hate in his brother's eyes. "Tino…I…"

"Don't say you're sorry, Nikolai. I know you fucking aren't," Tino whispered, getting up off the floor and sitting in a chair facing away from his brother. There were a few more seconds of heavy silence, and Tino curled as far into his own body as he could get. Nikolai sat on the couch, completely numb, and Tino continued in a whisper, "You aren't even…you don't…you didn't have to do that. You didn't have to talk that way to him, you didn't have to treat me like that in front of him. Do you even know how embarrassed I am right now? For so many different reasons?"

"Tino…how was I supposed to react when I saw that?" Nikolai tried to reason. "Did you expect me to be alright with it? Did you expect me to think, 'Oh, that's nice. Tino's been fooling around with some guy when no one's here. Wonderful. I'm proud.' Because you're smart enough to know that that's not going to happen."

"I expected you to act like a reasonable human being instead of freaking out like that and…I don't even…uhg!" Tino threw his hands up in the air, and slumped down in his chair so Nikolai couldn't even see him. His disembodied voice continued, "And for your information, Berwald isn't 'some guy.' He's my boyfriend. Secondly, I haven't _been_ fooling around. Today was the first time anything like that happened and neither of us expected for it to."

"Oh really," Nikolai scoffed, obviously disbelieving. "It _just so happened_ that you two were alone, in this big house on a Sunday? That's not impure at all, Tino. Yeah, I'm sure you were here…_studying_or something. We're the same fucking age, Tino, do you expect me to believe that bullshit?"

"Actually," Tino mumbled. "We were studying. He's been coming over every Sunday for the last three weeks to help me with my Swedish. I was getting a B." He sighed and sat up again, looking at Nikolai. "We had finished studying and we were talking about things. I was…" Tino sighed, blushing. "I _was_ in his lap, I'll admit. But we've sat together like that before and it didn't seem to matter. But today we started kissing, and one thing lead to another…" Tino sighed and shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, I came on to him. It's not like he was making me do something against my will. He's so shy…"

"How long have you known him?"

"Uhm…about…about a month."

"How long have you been dating?"

"Two weeks."

"Tino!"

"_What_?" Tino demanded, crossing his arms. Nikolai wondered _why_ his brother had to be so petulant half the time. "It's not like we were going to have sex, Nikolai! Neither of us is ready for that, and the relationship is even farther from being ready for it. I'm not _stupid_, okay? But…it just…It felt _so right_ at the moment. Don't you understand?" Tino paused, and snorted. "Oh wait, I'm sorry. You don't. You've only ever had sex with people you've never met before and teachers whose classes you're failing, right? Yeah, now I remember. Sorry."

Nikolai's heart jumped into his throat, and his head shot up, his navy blue eyes meeting his brother's narrowed violet. It was obvious Tino was furious. Tino would never have said anything even remotely like that if he was not, and Nikolai had no recent memory of Tino being this angry. But surely Nikolai had heard him wrong? Tino had no way of knowing about all that. He opened his mouth to respond, but all he could say was, "What did you just say?"

"I found the stuff in your drawer, Nikolai," Tino whispered. "The clothing, and that box of letters? I found it yesterday."

"I…I don't know what you're talking about," Nikolai muttered in determined monotone, while on the inside he was completely freaking out. He, quite honestly, wanted to cry. How had Tino found out? He'd been so careful, especially in his efforts to make sure that no one found out about what he'd once done, when he'd decided to put that lifestyle to rest. He'd been determined to never let anyone know who he'd once been.

He knew he should have thrown those clothes and that box of letters away a long time ago. But he was terrified that someone would find them in the trash and ask about them. No, he'd always thought they were much safer, hidden in his room in a place no one even knew was there.

Somehow, Tino had found it. And now his brother…

His brother would never look at him the same way again.

Tino looked away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I take it back."

"Tino!" Nikolai cried. As much as he wanted to, he could not leave it at that. He tried to make his voice steady, but it still cracked too much for his liking. "How…_how did you find that stuff_? How do you know? I…I…"

Shame. Complete and utter shame. That was the only thing that registered in Nikolai's mind. He couldn't even bring himself to be angry at his brother for snooping in his room.

"I…was trying to help you," Tino mumbled. As much as he wanted to lie and not incriminate himself, he couldn't think of one that made much sense, and he knew he'd forever feel awful about lying to his brother for something like this. Two wrongs don't make a right, and lying to Nikolai about something _Nikolai_ had lied about, would not equal the truth. If he wanted Nikolai to tell him these things, he had to come clean as well. "We're…There's this guy, and he wants to know more about you, and he asked me to help…and…I just want to see you happy, Nikolai. So I agreed. I went into your room and snooped around for a while yesterday. I never thought I'd find something like that."

Nikolai snorted and rolled his eyes. But it was a half-hearted movement. Tino could see the way his brother's lips were wiggling and his eyes shining. "L-let me guess the guy's name…Mathias, right?"

"Yeah."

"That guy just doesn't give up," Nikolai muttered, shaking his head. "I mean, I must have told him no about eleven times. Then, suddenly yesterday…something came over me and I said yes…" He sighed shakily and looked back at Tino. "And now you now my dirty little secret, huh? How I'm not as much of a prude as everyone thinks? How, when I was fourteen I would sleep with anything that moved—and didn't go to our school—just to get some feeling back into my life? How I'm a disgusting slut?"

"Oh, Nikolai…don't say that," Tino sighed. "I mean, you were young and confused…and, yeah, that's not really an excuse but, I guess…I can kind of understand why you did it."

"How did you know about Francis?" Nikolai asked. "Mr. Bonnefoy? How did you know?"

"There were…some letters in the drawer," Tino mumbled. "I thought, if I read them…that I would get a feel for why you'd done what you'd done. But they only confused me more. I'm sorry, Nikolai. I know I've lost your trust." Tino got up now, and sat down on the sofa beside Nikolai. "But, Nikolai…you're doing better now, right? Those clothes looked like they hadn't been worn in a few years. You're not…not doing that anymore. Right?"

Nikolai shook his head slowly. "No…I stopped soon after we went into Sophomore year. I couldn't stop thinking how ashamed my mom would be if she could see what I was doing…and eventually, that's what made me stop." Once again, he let out a shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry," Tino whispered, and Nikolai looked up to see Tino's face had twisted into one of shame and grief. Everything Nikolai was feeling on the inside, he could see on his brother's face. And Nikolai wondered both why Tino was looking like that, and why he, himself, couldn't just for once let himself go and cry.

"Why?" Nikolai whispered. His throat felt tight and his eyes stung, and yet he couldn't loosen up and let himself sob like Tino currently was. His mother had always told him that a good cry would get everything out of your system and make you feel better. But Nikolai just couldn't bring himself to do it. He'd felt weak so many times in his life, he didn't want to feel weak now. Especially not when he'd finally learned how to keep his emotions tightly reined in.

"For…for snooping in your room, and not just asking you about yourself," Tino sobbed, tears cascading down his face. "A-and…I realize that I don't know as much as I should about you. I mean, I kn-know we're only step brothers, b-but we should know more ab-bout each other than we do. I w-wouldn't have h-had to snoop in your r-room if I was a better brother, and knew m-more about you." He paused to wipe his eyes and then continued, "A-and I'm so sorry for not being there f-for you when your m-mom died. I can't even b-begin to imagine how a-alone you felt. But I j-just didn't know w-what to do for you! W-we were only thirteen, and we were still l-like strangers to e-each other. We've gotten c-closer recently, but b-back then I b-barely knew anything a-about you…I ch-chose to comfort my dad instead, b-because I know how in l-love he was with your mom…"

"Tino, please stop…"

"And I'm sorry about agreeing to h-help Mathias, but God Nikolai…I j-just want to see you h-happy!" Tino hiccupped and he buried his face in his hands, sobbing. "I'm h-happy! I've n-never been h-happier in my life, and I j-just want you to f-feel the s-same kind of happiness! I th-think I might be in love, Nikolai. And I want that f-for you, too."

"Tino…"

"D-don't you want to be in l-love? L-like our parents were?"

"Tino! Please, stop crying. I can't…I can't deal with it, okay?" Nikolai reached out and, in a very rare show of tenderness, wiped away his brother's tears. He'd always kind of thought of Tino as a younger brother—someone to be protected. Even if there were only six months separating them, he'd always felt that way towards him, and it physically pained him to see his brother so distraught, especially over him.

Especially since he'd been so cruel to him earlier. Sometimes, the urge to protect Tino and the urge to discipline him got their wires crossed and he ended up hurting his brother more than he'd like to admit.

"You've always protected me…and I've always just ignored you," Tino muttered. "I'm not stupid…I know my father doesn't do much for me, so he must do even less for you. You're the one who's been taking care of me for the last five years, even though I'm always yelling at you that you have no control over me."

Tino quieted for a long moment, and they met eyes. Nikolai sighed and wiped away the rest of Tino's tears.

"Tino," Nikolai said, shaking his head, "Only you can sob about how happy you are, and then go on blubbering about how you're sorry for me screwing my own life up."

Even the sad tone of the moment couldn't stop Tino from giggling. "I'm sorry, I just…"

Nikolai sighed and reached forward to hug his brother. "You're okay. None of this is your fault. I mean, you shouldn't have been snooping. But…you never expected to find things like that, and your intentions were pure."

"The road to Hell was paved with good intentions."

"Oh, Tino." Nikolai cuffed him gently across the head, and Tino chuckled. "Anyway…it's okay. And…I'm happy for you. I guess, if you feel that way…I give your relationship with Berwald my blessing. And I won't tell dad. But please, be careful. Use protection and all that, okay? Even I did that."

"Nikolai, I told you I…!"

"But _someday_ you will," Nikolai said. He squeezed Tino's shoulder. "You're a really good kid, Tino. Be careful."

"I know," Tino mumbled. "And you…you should give Mathias a chance, Nikolai. He cares about you."

"Yeah, I know…Unfortunately, I have no idea why," Nikolai pondered. "I even told him this…I mean, I've never given him a reason to care."

"There are just some people like that," Tino said, shrugging.

Nodding, Nikolai got up off the couch and said, "Well…the party for the people who participated in the Fair is tonight. Dad left a note this morning that said he wouldn't be home until late. I'd…call that boyfriend of yours and tell him that I didn't kill you. And could you please tell him that I didn't mean what I said? I was just so…pissed. When I came through that door all I could think was, "My god, it's happening to my brother, too." But…I guess I should have trusted you more."

"You should have, but I can't blame you."

Nikolai nodded, and turned around. With his back turned to the Finn, he said, "Uhm…Tino. Can I tell you something?"

"Huh?"

"I…you're my brother. You're my younger brother, and we've known each other half our lives. Even though we're not related. And even though I may not act like it sometimes…I love you. Okay?" Then he hurriedly ran up the stairs.

"Nikolai!" Tino cried, his delayed reaction giving way to a quick tailing of his brother. "Nikolai!" The Norwegian stopped on the stairs, but didn't turn around. Tino said, "I love you, too. You're really important to me. Don't think any different."

Nikolai nodded hesitantly, and continued up the stairs. But he had a smile on his face.

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><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

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><p>AN: I'm terribly sorry about this chapter, guys…I don't really like it. I don't know exactly how it got to this point…I wanted to confront the issue of Nikolai's past, and I knew that if I held it off for too long, it would start being the elephant in the room. Then it turned into a chapter-long dramafest and I feel like I rambled way too long and it didn't really make sense. I'm also terribly sorry about the excessive swearing. It makes me feel really bad.

Uhm…next chapter will definitely be better, I promise. And there's still a lot to explain with the whole Nikolai storyline. But this chapter gives you the basics. I hope you guys can bear with me for a while.

Happy Fourth of July, my fellow Americans! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday! Also, happy belated Canada to my Canadian friends!

Also, thank you so much to my wonderful new beta, **Wolf Ness**. She's great! And we've both established that we quite like exclamation points~

-Lynn


	8. Chapter 8: Confessions of the Tipsy

**Notes**: Oh hey, I'm alive! Heh…heh…

Judging by the lax reviews from the last chapter, I can gather that you guys didn't really like that one…But thank you so much for the reviews I did get! I honestly had no illusions that I would be able to keep that amount of reviews per chapter up for a long time, and I really am grateful for all of the reviews that I get—thank you so much to everyone who leaves them! You're all such sweethearts!

I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long to get out—I've been writing a different story for a while now in a different fandom, and I let that one take me away from this one, which I really shouldn't seeing as that one was a one-shot and this one is a multichapter story, and I never like to disappoint. But it is what it is, and I hope the wait wasn't too agonizing for any of you—It's just me! Nothing to agonize about! :D

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: Hong Kong/Iceland

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, swearing, underage drinking, ideologically sensitive material

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts are the property of Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor do I own Taming of the Shrew, written by William Shakespeare, or 10 Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchstone pictures. The only thing I own is the story below as you see it written.

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Confessions of the Tipsy<strong>

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><p><strong>Sorenson-Väinämöinen Residence, 6:25 PM<strong>

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><p>Parties were not the kinds of thing Nikolai usually attended—anymore, anyway. He didn't think he'd been to a party in almost three years. The party for the fair would probably be subdued, true, but there would still be a large crowd, people dancing, and not a lot of room to breathe. Thus, something even remotely heavy was out of the question unless he wanted to show up, say hi, and leave.<p>

Which, to be honest, was an attractive option and Nikolai wondered whether he shouldn't just do that. But it would get Ice on his case for the next fifty years, and it would disappoint Mathias. And though Nikolai did not know when he began to _care_ about the Dane's feelings, for some reason he did. And despite himself, he couldn't help but want to make a good impression. As he'd told Ice time and time again, there was no one on Earth that didn't care about other's opinions of them—except for maybe five-year-old boys and those with the mentality of them. Nikolai was no exception to this, and furthermore was no five-year-old boy.

He spent a good ten minutes looking through his closet before he realized it was a lost cause. All of those clothes were school clothes or old pieces of clothing that he wouldn't be caught dead in anymore. Realizing that he'd have to look through the drawers, Nikolai knelt by his dresser and searched through the bottom drawer. The closet was full of school clothes, and the dresser (Save for the top drawer which was underwear and things he'd rather not think about) was full of casual clothing. The party wasn't incredibly casual, but it wasn't formal by any means and school clothing would just look awkward.

However, he did not have a lot of casual clothing that was in-between.

Eventually, though, he found something acceptable. A black tee-shirt and some dark-wash jeans. It was nice to be in comfortable clothing for the first time in a while

He combed his hair, pinned it back as he usually did, and stood back, trying to examine himself from someone else's point of view.

"Oh, _that's_ sexy." From his doorway, Tino leaned in and chuckled when Nikolai shot him a perturbed glare. He continued, "You look good. Mathias will like it."

"Oh, how do you know." Nikolai glared at himself in the mirror one last time before going around the room and straightening it up. The conversation he'd had with Tino not an hour ago was making the air thick with an undeniable awkwardness, and Nikolai feared that if he didn't do something, he'd stay something he'd regret. But Tino just stood there, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed lazily and his arms tucked behind him.

"Because," Tino said.

"I hate answers like that."

"When is he going to be here?" Tino remarked, completely ignoring Nikolai's need to bitch about insignificant things.

"Seven," Nikolai muttered, shoving something at random in his nightstand drawer. Having nothing left to pick up, he walked over to his window seat and sat down. He was hyperaware of the fact that the window overlooked the walk up to the house, and tried to resist looking down. Failed.

He gave a (Hopefully) inconspicuous glance down and immediately did a double take. There was no mistaking that violently spiked hair, even from the top. He cursed. "Damnit, he's ten minutes early! Seriously?" Frozen, he watched as Mathias came up the walk and was obscured by the awning of the porch.

The doorbell rang, and the brothers stared at each other.

"I'll answer it?" Tino suggested, already unfolding himself from the wall and heading back down the hall. "It'll give you a few more minutes; prepare yourself. I'll send him up in, what? Five minutes?"

"Yeah, sure," Nikolai muttered, staring down at the floor and trying not to internally freak out. This was the first time he'd ever done anything like this. The guys he'd been with back in freshman year—back _then_—had always been complete strangers that he saw once and never did again. The exception to that was Mr. Bonnefoy, but the most couply thing they ever did—aside from fuck, of course—was, if Nikolai had been at school _helping_ late enough, Francis sometimes drove him into the next town over and they ate ice cream together.

It hadn't been all that bad. Nikolai thought that was how relationships _worked_.

But this…this was something with a lot more pressure involved. He actually had to make an impression that involved more than demonstrating his skill in _certain_ areas. He actually had to pull some kind of likeable personality out of his ass, lest Mathias get fed-up halfway through and realize that this had all been a big mistake.

He didn't know the first thing about dating, and surely that would be obvious. And it was obvious Mathias had been with other people before. He just had those kinds of looks—the kind that no straight woman or gay man could resist, no matter their type. Nikolai wasn't delusional, and therefore could not deny Mathias' attractiveness. Nikolai knew he, himself, was not unattractive but it wasn't as if there weren't people in their school who looked _so_ much better than he, and their looks were usually coupled with better personalities. Once again, he found himself wondering what Mathias could _possibly_ see in him.

Once again, all Nikolai could think about was Mathias realizing that he'd made a horrible mistake.

"Uhg, why do I _care_?" Nikolai groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Uhm…Nikolai?"

Had it been five minutes already? Nikolai looked up to see Mathias standing there, in the doorway. Nikolai let his hands from drop his face and stood up, staring at the Dane standing in his room. Mathias shifted nervously and smiled his goofy, oddly comforting smile at Nikolai. In spite of himself, he felt his heart skip a beat. "You look…really nice. I mean, more than nice…Wow."

Great, now he'd have to give a compliment too. Mathias was looking quite nice himself in a red button-up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and buttoned there, as well as a pair of black jeans. For a moment, Nikolai floundered for something to say before he murmured, "You don't look too bad, either. I like your shirt."

Mathias looked down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing, and replied, "Thanks."

There was a long moment of awkward silence, which annoyed Nikolai terribly although he was a willing participant in it. Eventually, he looked up and muttered, "Are we going? It's about a half hour drive to her house, and we'll be late if we don't go soon."

"Yeah, of course," Mathias said, nodding and waiting for Nikolai to walk out of the room. As he passed, he tried to rest a hand in the small if Nikolai's back, but the Norwegian made an uncomfortable movement and turned away, hurrying his pace down the hall. Behind him, Mathias sighed disappointedly and followed.

"We're leaving," Nikolai called to Tino, whom was laying on the couch with one leg slung over the arm. He sat up, revealing the fact that he had his phone next to his ear, and replied, "Okay, bye. Have a good time." He waved, then scrunched up his nose at whomever was on the other end of the line. "No, babe. Not you, my brother." Then he was gone again, flinging himself back onto the sofa.

Nikolai grumbled, "Don't treat the furniture like that…" to himself, and continued out the door, locking it behind him.

The drive was silent, except for Nikolai's directions, and it made Mathias uncomfortable. He really hated silence; especially awkward ones such as these. Periodically, he'd glance at Nikolai, whom was resting his head against the window, arms crossed. He looked bored, but somehow conflicted at the same time. Every once in a while, a hint of 'what am I doing' would also flit across his face, and Mathias wished that he would stop having such rampant second thoughts.

"Are you okay?" Mathias asked, frowning over at him at a red light. According to Nikolai, they would be coming upon the house any moment, so he knew there wasn't much longer to drive.

Nikolai's head did not move, but he somehow managed to meet Mathias' by moving his blue irises to the very corner of his. "Yes. Why?"

"You're just looking kind of miserable. I mean, you're slumped against the door and you've got your cheek stuck against the hot window. That can't be comfortable for you." The light turned green, and he gave one more worried glance at Nikolai before putting the car in drive.

Rather than acknowledge his concerns, Nikolai chose to sit up and stare straight ahead. "Turn left at this upcoming street. She's the second house on the right, but you might have to park around the corner."

Disappointed, Mathias turned the corner and did, indeed, park around the corner. They sat in the car for a moment, until Nikolai turned to stare at him and remarked, "Are you going to unlock the car or are we just going to sit here all day, Mathias?" It didn't have his usual bite, though. He didn't sound angry. Rather, he sounded tired. Resigned. Like something had happened to make him what to call it a day and sleep until a decent hour tomorrow—which was odd for anyone at only four o'clock in the afternoon.

Mathias tried several times, haltingly, to speak. Eventually, he got out, "You…you really don't want to do this, do you? Go to this party, I mean. You look really upset. Should…should I just take you back home? I mean, we can reschedule, or…" He would have said, _just forget about the whole thing_, but he was afraid Nikolai would jump at the chance. And he most certainly did not want to throw away his one chance at showing the Norwegian that he was genuine.

"No, no," Nikolai sighed. "I owe it to Bell—that's the person running the party—and Ice would be on my case forever if I just ditched for no reason. I'll go in and hang around for an hour. Maybe eating something will make me feel better." He frowned down at his lap, seeming to debate within himself, before he added, "Plus, I told you we'd come to this party together…And contrary to popular belief, I don't often break my promises, even if they are to dolts like you."

For some reason, Nikolai's insult comforted Mathias. Nikolai wasn't himself if he wasn't teasing Mathias whenever he tried to talk to him. Mathias smiled goofily and cooed, "Aw, do you need a hug? I'll hold you." In a teasing manner, thinking Nikolai would lash out and their usual banter would resurface.

"I—." Nikolai looked angry for all of two seconds, then he paused. That look of sadness was back. Mathias had certainly not expected this, and he found that he'd do anything to have Nikolai yell at him, instead of stare at him like that. Like his puppy had just been kicked. "I haven't…_been held_…in almost five years."

"Huh?" That was something Mathias didn't understand. Even with a less than spectacular home life and a mother that wasn't quite all there sometimes, she'd always still been there with warm arms for him to squirm into when he was sad, even today. "Not even from your mom?"

"My mother died five years ago," Nikolai murmured. Mathias gasped, feeling suddenly insensitive. "She was the only person that ever hugged me. My father…isn't my real father. He's Tino's. Tino's my step brother. I've only known them since I was eight years old. I…my father isn't really an affectionate kind of person, and Tino and I just aren't that close. I mean, we hug—Hell, we did just this afternoon—but, it's always just…a squeeze, I guess you would say. We don't _hold_ each other when we're upset. And my relationship with Ice just isn't like that…" He shook his head. "I don't know why I'm talking about this. Come on, let's go."

With something that was obviously nervous energy jittering in him, Nikolai yanked open the door and exited the car quickly. He started off down the block, not even bothering to see if Mathias was following, but only made it a few yards away before Mathias caught up to him and grabbed his arm and spun him around.

A second later, Nikolai's face was buried in Mathias' broad chest and the Dane's strong arms were wrapped around his slim shoulders. Nikolai gasped and tried to struggle away, crying out. "Mathias! Idiot! What are you doing? What have I told you about touching me without my permission—!"

"It sounded like you needed this," Mathias whispered into his hair. He rubbed Nikolai's back, and after a moment of this Nikolai relaxed, but did not reciprocate. "I'm sorry, but…I can't stand it when people are sad. Angry, I'm okay with. I mean, you're always mad about one thing or another so it's not like I can stop that. I think it's kind of cute, actually." Nikolai grumbled, and Mathias laughed slightly. "But…I hate it when people are sad."

There was complete, penetrating silence for a long moment. Then Nikolai rested his head against Mathias' chest and whispered, "Thank you."

"Hey, anything for you, okay? I mean that." The hand that was in Nikolai's hair smoothed against it, and Mathias felt more than heard Nikolai utter out a reaction to his words. Deciding to pull back before he did something he regretted, or pushed his luck too far, Mathias stepped back and smiled down at the Norwegian, whom still had his head down, staring at the ground. Mathias' smile faded, replaced by a small, sad quirk of lips. "Is…there a particular reason why you're down…?"

"Not really." Flipping around, Nikolai began wandering towards the house again. "Things have just been piling up. I had a fight with Ice, and we made up but it was the start of this…giant clusterfuck of things…I'm so confused right now, by so many things—the least of which is this whole thing with you. My brother found out some things that I never wanted him to, and now…now I'm afraid he'll never look at me the same way. And, to top it all off I got an email that said they finally decided on a date for graduation, and…it's on the anniversary of my mother's death. And that's just…great." The date had been moved no less than five times since the beginning of the year. Classic Northern High School preplanning at its finest.

"Oh, Nikolai, I'm…"

"I really…_don't_ want your sympathy, Mathias," Nikolai said, turning around and holding up a hand. "That's not why I said that. You asked, I told you. Now please, let's go."

With an air of concern an disappointment still hanging about him, Mathias let his legs lead him forward, mechanically following Nikolai, while his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, on the other boy and how in the _world_ he as supposed to fix such a broken person.

There was no question he would find a way; that was not the issue here. The question was _how_.

The house was very large, and the long, wrap-around driveway was full of cars. Mathias wondered to himself just how many people were supposed to be here—the fair hadn't been _that_ heavily-staffed. Nikolai seemed perturbed as well, for he stood there for a second and frowned.

"Looks like Lars is at it again."

"Who's Lars?" muttered Mathias. He'd thought the person hosting the party was a woman named Jess.

"Bell's freeloading, pot-smoking older brother. Nine times out of ten, he completely fucks Bell over by inviting his own, stupid friends to her parties. I have no idea why she doesn't just kick him out of her house. But she says she owes it to their parents, even though they couldn't stand him either—that's why he was sent to live with her."

Mathias gave the house an apprehensive once-over. Now that he listened closely, he could hear music pounding from within. "Do you still want to go in? I'd understand if you didn't."

"No, let's just go," Nikolai sighed, beginning the long trek up the lawn.

"So, she lives here alone? This is really big. What does she do for a living?"

"Uhm…I think her family owns the land that this house is built on. The city doesn't really own subdivisions this far out. You see how wide the houses are spaced? Yeah, that's because all of the land around here is privately-owned." Heaving a sigh, he went ahead. Mathias tried, and failed, not to examine the Norwegian's swishing hips. For whatever reason, Nikolai walked on the balls of his feet, which made hips sway wonderfully, even though he wasn't incredibly well-endowed in that area. He was actually rather slim in the hip area, as any other guy was.

Bell turned out to be an early-twenties-looking woman, with blonde hair and green eyes. For the party, she wore a blue dress and a red ribbon in her hair, and Mathias would be lying if he said she didn't look very beautiful. She also, however, looked haggard and displeased. She answered the door with a frown, and only when she realized who was on the other side did she smile slightly. "Oh, hi Nikolai. Uhm…our party has kind of been invaded."

Nikolai glanced around the door. "I can see that. Why don't you tell Lars and his stupid friends to hit the road?"

Bell smirked deeply, but darkly. It gave Mathias chills. "I gave one of 'em a black eye. When that doesn't work, what else can you do? Our part of the party has mostly moved to the basement, although the majority of the living room is still semi-civil. The dining room is lost, though. They're all high and that's where the food is. I wouldn't go in there unless you want a contact high."

"Got it," sighed Nikolai, wandering in the door with a frown on his face. "Have you seen Ice?"

"Saw him, but I don't know where he is," Bell remarked. "He could be anywhere by now. You know Ice. He moves through a crowd like smoke, and he's just as hard to catch. He was here with some Asian kid, though. Jang? Wang? Something –ang."

"Oh." Nikolai hadn't been aware that he was bringing Xang, but it wasn't as if the other boy couldn't be there either. Everyone invited to the party was allowed a plus-one. Not that it really mattered anymore; the gathering had completely outgrown the confines that Bell had tried to set up, with the arrival of Lars' friends and their drugs and alcohol.

"Yeah." Bell sighed. "If you're thirsty, enter the dining room at your own risk. There's punch and coke in there."

"Both kinds, no doubt," Nikolai muttered as he walked into the house. "Come on, Mathias. Let's see if we can find Ice."

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><p><strong>Backyard, thirty minutes earlier<strong>

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><p>The backyard was quiet and had only a few people in it, and there was a porch swing that wasn't occupied. Ice wandered out there, Xang behind him, and they sat. He took a sip of his punch, and it tasted funny so he put it down and didn't pick it back up. He thought it was probably the pineapple in it. He really didn't like pineapple.<p>

"Nikolai better show up," Ice muttered. Xang glanced over in casual interest, then quickly back down when Ice turned towards him. The Asian boy was staring into his punch as if it would give him the answers to life, and Ice found it slightly amusing. He continued, however, "He told me _and_ Bell that he'd be here. If he isn't, I swear I'll kill him. Even if he didn't want to come with Mathias, he could have just called me and I'd have picked him up. I swear, sometimes he doesn't have sense."

"Hmm." Xang poked one of the two large, crescent-shaped ice cubes in his drink and muttered, "You two are really good friends, huh?"

"Yeah," Ice replied, unconcerned. "He's been my best friend since…God, as long as I can remember. I remember a little while in first grade when I didn't know him, but that's it. I think we must have met pretty soon after school started, although I honestly can't remember how."

"He's really important to you?"

"Of course. He's the most precious person in my life, aside from my parents. I know more about him than I do my own sister." He glanced sidelong at Xang, and did a double take as he realized that Xang was clenching his jaw, looking unhappy. He glanced around, to see if there was anything going on to make Xang look that way. Aside from a three girls from the fair clustered around a birdbath, and two of Lars' stoner friends standing against the far fence, the yard was deserted. Unless Xang was offended by whatever substance the two guys were smoking over there, he could come up with no explanation for why Xang would have that expression.

"Do you love him?" Xang questioned eventually.

Ice raised his eyebrows, but didn't seem to get the hint. Instead, he curled one leg up to himself—a habit when he was uncomfortable and trying to close himself off—and mumbled, "Well…yes."

Xang's jaw clenched more and he turned his head away. "Oh."

"But…what does that have to do with anything?" Ice mumbled. He noticed that Xang's punch cup was empty, and he picked up his own, offering it. "Do you want this? It has pineapple in it, and I don't really like pineapple."

"There's no pineapple in it. This is wild berry punch."

Ice glanced into the cup, furrowing his brows. "Then…why does it taste odd…?"

"Someone spiked it. I saw a couple of bottles of fruit punch flavored beers hidden by the table cloth. That's why it tastes like there's pineapple in it."

Ice's eyes widened and he stared at Xang, whom had jut spouted all of this very nonchalantly. Ice was one of those straight-and-narrow people who didn't condone drinking, and the fact that Xang would do so was quite a shock to his mind and senses. "Well, if you knew it was spiked then why would you…I mean…do you normally…?" He watched in horror as Xang picked up Ice' punch cup, which was sitting on the swing between them, and drank half of it. "Xang!"

"Those beers have such a low alcohol content. You'd need five or six of them to get even remotely drunk. Mixed with the punch and they're so watered down that it'd take a whole lot more than two cups to feel even tipsy."

"That still doesn't mean you should drink it, you know!"

Xang's dark chocolate eyes met with his own red-violet ones, and Ice was frozen for a moment. Xang looked determined. Upset and disappointed, but determined. "I don't normally drink, Ice. The most I've had is a couple of sips of rice wine when I'm at my grandfathers' every other summer. So don't go thinking that this is a normal thing for me. I just…needed it today."

"For what reason?" Ice hoped he was conveying ample displeasure on his face.

Xang smiled. "Liquid courage."

"What fo—" Ice never got to finish his sentence, because Xang lunged then. He placed one hang against the back of Ice's head and pulled him in, nestling their lips together. Ice was rather too shocked to move at first, and once Xang had pulled him in, he found himself unwilling to pull away. But nor could he find it in himself to reciprocate. Eventually, Xang caught on to the lack of movement from Ice, and pulled back, looking upset.

"I just…I had to do that," Xang murmured. "I had to try. I know you're into Nikolai, but it's obvious he's not into you. I mean, I don't really think he's even that into Mathias, to be honest. And I just thought, maybe if you knew I…If I could convince you…and maybe…You wouldn't get…" He sighed, and looked down. Ice tried to meet his eyes by ducking his head as well, but Xang stared resolutely in the other direction. "Well…it doesn't matter anymore."

"Xang, you're not making any sense," muttered Ice. "If you're trying to tell me something, at least finish a sentence, alright?" Once again, he tried to get Xang to look him in the eyes. The usually indifferent boy seemed anything but at the moment, and it worried Ice. There was the kiss to think about as well, but Ice chose to ignore it for the moment. Thinking about too many confusing things at once would be counterproductive to his mission of helping Xang.

"I…I like you, okay?" Xang whispered. "A lot. A lot more than one person should like someone that they've only known for a few weeks. Way more. I know you didn't know that I existed until last month—I heard you talking to Nikolai yesterday. Your voices traveled up on the wind. And I know that you only think of me as a friend. But…I've known about you. You're just so…you're so…"

"Yes?" whispered Ice.

Xang sighed, and shook his head. "You're so…beautiful. I mean, how could I not look at you? I've had the hugest crush on you for the longest time, since at least freshman year, and…I finally got up the courage to talk to you, and now I realize that the only reason you even talked to me was to help Nikolai…and I kind of knew that from the start. And I don't know why I thought it would be any different, I mean…Don't get me wrong, it's great that you love him so much, he obviously needs it, I just…Oh God." The fact that Xang couldn't seem to string two sentences together at the moment was disturbing to Ice. The other boy was usually so calm and collected. Xang ran his hands through his hair. "I'm not making any sense, am I?"

"Yes, you are…" Presently, Ice felt an odd sensation envelope him. It made his heart beat fast and his nerve endings squirm. He wouldn't call it pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant either. He wet his suddenly dry lips and murmured. "You're…you're in love with me, aren't you?" He didn't want to sound pompous, but it was the only way to explain Xang's weird behavior.

_Oh God_, he thought, _my life is turning into one of those shojo mangas._

Xang appeared to have stopped breathing altogether. Then, as though he'd just realized it himself, he breathed out, "Yes."

The sensation intensified. Ice felt hot. He licked his lips again and said, "Xang, I…"

But Xang did not let him finish. Rather than endure rejection, the Asian boy rose from the swing and turned back towards the sliding patio doors. "Yeah, I know. You're not interested. I'm really sorry, Ice. My goal wasn't to make you uncomfortable. I'm just going to…I'm going to leave now."

"Xang…"

"No, really. It's alright."

Now Ice was growing angry. "Oh, for Christ's sake, sit down and _listen to me_, will you?"

Mollified and scolded, Xang drifted back over and sat down, facing straight ahead. He looked clenched for impact. Ice calmed himself down, and sighed. "I'm not into Nikolai like that, Xang. I've never thought of him as anything but a best friend or brother. Please, you've gotta believe me. Nikolai's a good person, but I could never…_be_ with someone like that. I'm sorry to say it, but Nikolai's too high-maintenance for me."

"Uh-huh."

"But…uhm, what you said just now Xang…that's a lot to think about." Ice bit his lip, and looked down into his lap where his index finger was picking at the dry skin of his thumb. A habit he'd always had that only appeared when he was nervous. "I'm not…really…"

Xang looked as if all hope had deserted him. He looked down and nodded. "Yeah, I know. Like I said, I understand."

"But, uhm…" Ice took in a large breath, and let it all out in a long sigh. "Xang, you're…a really great guy."

"Just not the guy for you?"

Ice had to carefully consider his next response, and eventually decided on the truth. "…Well, no…" Before Xang could speak, Ice held up a hand. "But, you know…relationships never _start_ with both of the people absolutely crazy about each other, right? That only happens in cheesy romantic comedies…and your brother's shojo mangas." At this, they both had a slightly awkward chuckle, but quickly sobered. Ice rested a hand over Xang's, which was on the Asian's knee. Thankfully, he didn't pull away. "So…here's my proposal. And just listen, okay?"

Xang nodded, and turned over his hand to squeeze Ice's. Ice smiled, and said, "We take it slow, okay? I know that isn't…the style these days. But, I just don't want to rush it. This is just something that's better off done slow. Trust me, we have all the time in the world. I mean, I'm staying in the state for college. Are you?" at Xang's nod, he continued, "UCLA. What about you?"

With a smile, Xang said, "UCLA. It's my dad's alma mater."

"Cool." They sat there for a few seconds, smiling and holding hands. The awkwardness of the situation wasn't lost on either of them, but with a little practice they would be more at ease with each other. Ice, however, eventually thought of events previous and frowned. "Xang?"

"What?"

"_Never_ try a stunt like that again. Someday, I'll explain my views on drinking to you. But until then, just know that I don't appreciate it."

Xang rubbed the back of his neck. "Got it."

There was more silence, and then Xang glanced at Ice and mumbled, "Ice?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you mind if I…kissed you again?" He sounded so painfully shy, which wasn't like Xang at all. It endeared him to Ice, to say the least, and the pale boy smiled slightly.

"Sure."

Xang smiled, and leaned in.

* * *

><p><strong>In the living room, half an hour later<strong>

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><p>Nikolai had gotten up to get something to drink half an hour ago, and never come back. They'd found Ice, but the other teen hadn't really seemed inclined to talk. Mathias hadn't noticed anything out-of-character for the pale boy, but Nikolai evidently had because after only ten minutes he'd bid Ice and Xang (Whom was with him, sitting on the porch swing where they'd found him) and walked back into the house, muttering something to Mathias about how Ice obviously wasn't up to speaking at the moment, and they should just let him and Xang be.<p>

Now Nikolai had disappeared as well, and Mathias was getting antsy. Of course, the first thing that came to mind was that Nikolai had walked out of the house without telling him, which he was sorry to say he wouldn't put past the boy at all. But Mathias had been his ride, and it _was_ an incredibly long walk back to Nikolai's house.

Finally, Mathias got fed up and went to hunt for the Norwegian. The first place he checked was out on the porch, thinking maybe he'd escaped to go talk with Ice. And though Ice as still out there, Nikolai was nowhere to be found. And Mathias certainly would have asked Ice where Nikolai was, had the pale boy not been asleep on Xang's shoulder. And the way that his friend stared at him, Mathias knew the consequences would be dire if he even tried waking Ice up.

So he drifted around the house for no less than fifteen minutes, looking for his wayward date while growing more and more worried, irritated, and overheated. Everyone he talked to had either never heard of Nikolai, or simply had not seen him.

Eventually, he located Bell—the woman who owned the house and was running the party—and called her out. She spun around to stare at him, and smiled. "You're Nikolai's friend, right?"

"Yes!" Mathias said, maybe a bit too excitedly. But at least she recognized him, and would probably be willing to give him any information she had on the Norwegian's whereabouts. "Yes, I am. And I'm actually trying to find him—I'm afraid I've lost track of him somehow. Ah…have you seen him?"

"Yeah, actually." Bell frowned and glanced out the bay window. "He left about fifteen minutes ago. He said he just needed some fresh air, so he's coming back. I think he headed in the direction of the park down the street. He was behaving weird, though. I think he may have been drunk."

"_Drunk_?" Mathias demanded. The words 'drunk' and 'Nikolai' had no business being next to each other in anyone's head, so he wondered what would have made Bell think that. "Are you sure? I mean…I don't really…think he'd do that."

"No, neither do I. But I mean, it's the only explanation I can think of. He was swaying, slurring, the whole nine yards. He looked really upset too. Did…someone say anything to him?"

"Beats me," Mathias sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Ah…maybe I can catch up with him. Which way is this park, and what's it called?" If he could find Nikolai and figure out what was wrong, he might be able to fix it. He _knew_ he shouldn't have let Nikolai come to this party. He hadn't looked right at all, and depression with alcohol in the vicinity was never a good thing. The whole party knew the punch was spiked by now, but he'd also seen several bottles of whisky and vodka working their way around the party, probably courtesy of Bell's brother. It was entirely possible that Nikolai had gotten his hands on one of those.

"Er…something like Clausen Community Park. It's basically a grassy area with lots of benches and a playscape. It's hard to miss."

"Okay, thank you." Mathias turned to head off, but found the sleeve of his shirt grabbed by Bell. He turned around, and furrowed his brows. "What's the matter?"

"Uhm…take care of him." Biting her lip, she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and continued, "I don't know the specifics, but he's already had a hard life, and he's so young. Just make sure that he's okay. And, if at all possible, try to make him smile."

Mathias nodded. "I will."

For a moment, Bell searched his eyes. Then she nodded to herself, as if pleased, and let him go. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then inclined his head shortly before heading off, out the door. The park couldn't have been far, and he was pretty sure that Nikolai wouldn't have just up and left on his own. Then again, the other boy was apparently drunk—he could think _anything_ was a good idea at this point, for all Mathias knew.

So it was with relief when he finally located the park and saw the distant, blond figure on the swing set. Nikolai was clinging to the chains holding the swing up, slumped miserably. The swing he was on had been tossed over the rafter of the set a few times, so it was rather high off the ground. Nikolai was just slightly too short to have his feet on the ground. So they dangled there, and added to the vision of depression that was the Norwegian boy.

Approaching slowly, but loudly so that he wouldn't startle Nikolai, Mathias called, "Hey, Nikolai…?" when he got close enough.

Nikolai shot an unfocused glare over his shoulder. "What'rey'…" he slurred, frowned, and tried again at a slower pace, "What are you…doing here?"

"You ran off…so I got worried." Mathias' tone was one that you might use on a particularly volatile person. He had no knowledge of what Nikolai could do when drunk, so he had to be very careful. Nikolai was just as likely to burst into tears as he was to start throwing punches. Neither was anything Mathias wanted to happen.

Nikolai furrowed his brows. "Well…don't. I'm not a little baby…I can handle myself."

"Uhm…are you okay?"

"Fine." Nikolai continued to stare resolutely ahead. He didn't seem completely trashed—only marginally tipsy. But it still worried Mathias all the same.

"No, you're not. You ran away from Bell's party and now you're sitting in a park, on a children's swing set, drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Nikolai snapped, remarkably clearly. Then he calmed and added, "I'm just…not completely sober, alright?"

Mathias looped around the pole of the swing set, so he could look at Nikolai. "Yeah, but why? I mean, I knew you weren't completely okay earlier, but I didn't expect you to…do _this_."

Nikolai did a half-sneer, half-pout in Mathias' direction. It obviously wasn't supposed to come out that way, and the expression would have been comical had this not been such a serious situation. Instead, Mathias stayed quiet and waited for Nikolai's reply. It came. "There's a lot of things that I've done…that none of you would expect."

"Who's 'none of you'?"

"All of you!" Nikolai frowned and looked away. "My dad, my brother, Ice. Everyone who I've ever talked to at school. I've done things…that I feel ashamed of…"

"Well, we all have—it's part of growing up."

Nikolai fixed him with a sardonic glare. "I'm not talking about cheating on a test or stealing someone's Little Debbie snack cake in fifth grade, Mathias…"

"Well, neither am I." They sat there for a few minutes, staring at each other, before he added, "Nikolai, please let me help you."

"If by 'help', you mean 'sleep with', then sure." Nikolai stared ahead, crossing his arms and apparently not realizing the shock value that the statement he'd just given contained. Mathias was so thrown that he almost physically fell over, and he found himself chocking on his own air before he hissed, "_What_?" between coughs. Surely he'd heard Nikolai wrong.

"You're lucky. If I was sober, I'd never be saying this. But yeah. I know you just want to sleep with me, so that's fine. If it'll get you out of my hair, I don't mind." Nikolai looked up, taking in Mathias' shocked face, and chuckled. "Shocked? Believe me, you'll be one of the better people I've slept with." Sliding off the swing, he sighed and came to stand ches-to-chest—or, rather, shoulders-to-chest—with Mathias. "So, I guess we should do this before I sober up and change my mind. We can do it in the back of your car, or we can go back to my house…the walls are thick. I've had sex in the basement before without anyone noticing."

For a second, Mathias stared with shock at Nikolai, trying to say something and not being able to. Eventually, he whispered, "Uhm…Nikolai…how about we do this, okay?" He wasn't going to try to talk to Nikolai in this condition; best to wait until tomorrow, when Nikolai was sober and sane. "I'm going to take you home, okay? And you're going to sleep this off, and then we're going to talk about this tomorrow after school."

Nikolai frowned. "What are you talking about? What's there to discuss? You want to sleep with me, I'm offering."

Mathias rolled his eyes. "No, I don't…I mean, it's not like I wouldn't…I mean…later, _way_ later…" Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and said, "Nikolai. I don't _just_ want to sleep with you, okay? If that's what you're thinking, you're wrong. So please, okay? Think about this reasonably. This isn't you—it's the alcohol talking."

"Wait, so let me get this straight…I'm _offering_ to sleep with you, and you're not accepting?" Nikolai snorted, looking affronted. "You _don't_ want to sleep with me? So what, are you doing this for shits and giggles, is that why you're pursuing me?"

"_No_!" Mathias cried—nearly bellowed at the other teen. It was the first time that Nikolai had ever heard Mathias raise his voice in anything other thane excitement, and it shocked him to silence. "I'm doing this because…because I really, _really_ like you. I'm doing this because…Nikolai, I'm doing this because I'm in love with you. I know we're young, and I know it sounds stupid, and I know you wish I would just go away. But I can't change my feelings any more than you can change your past! And I know you've got baggage—more than most people. But I will do _anything_ to help you through that, okay?" Mathias calmed slightly, and rested his hands on Nikolai's shoulders. "I know I've only known you for a month, but it's been the best—and at the same time, worst—month of my life. I think I loved you from the second I saw you."

Nikolai stared at him skeptically. "Love at first sight? Right, sure. And I'm _really_ an elf."

"Then where's your pot of gold, Mr. Elf?" Mathias muttered.

"That's a leprechaun, you idiot! _Leprechauns_ have pots of gold, not elves!" All the same, what Mathias had said was profound. Nikolai dipped his head to avoid looking at Mathias' eyes. After a second, he whispered, "Mathias. Let go. I'm going to be sick."

"Oh. Oh, no." Mathias let Nikolai's shoulders go, but followed close behind as he ran off and heaved against the trunk of a tree. It would appear that Nikolai had eaten nothing that day, as the only thing that came up was a clear liquid Mathias could only assume was vodka. He held back Nikolai's hair and rubbed his back, whispering once he was done, "Feel better?"

"…No," Nikolai muttered miserably. But he did seem a bit more sober. He looked away from the previous contents of his stomach and stared out over the park. "Mathias? Can you take me home?"

"Of course. Come on, get up. Can you get up?"

Nikolai nodded and rose to his feet, following sluggishly alongside Mathias back to the car. As the car came into their sights, Mathias felt a hand slide into his own. He looked down, shocked to see Nikolai's hand in his own even though it could have been no one else's. It was only there long enough to squeeze, but Mathias still felt the warmth of it minutes later.

"Uhm…I'm sorry."

Again, Mathias rubbed his back. "I know you are, pretty baby. I know you are."

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: YOU GUUUUUUYS! I'M SO SORRY THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG! I feel so insanely bad! My muse just fucking _exploded_ halfway through the last chapter, and it didn't quite get back on track until last night. And I know this chapter was another pretty shitty one, and I'm sorry for that, but I hope you at least enjoyed it somewhat.

I'm going to post this tonight and send this to my beta in the morning, just as compensation for you guys having to wait so long. I don't want to make you guys wait any longer.

Also, Mathias calling Nikolai 'pretty baby' is a habit I've gotten into thanks to an RP I'm involved in. If you don't like it, just mention it and it shall never be used again. :) It was just something I wanted to try. I knew I definitely wanted Mathias to give Nikolai some endearment at the end of this chapter. I just didn't know what. Then I was reading over old RP messages and I found that. ;)

Once again, I hope you enjoyed!

-Lynn


	9. Chapter 9: Rooftop Truths

**Notes**: Hey guys! It's been a while, hasn't it? Heh… Well, I'm back! To be honest, it was procrastination that kept me from updating for so long. But my girlfriend's asked me several times if I'm going to start working on the next chapter, and I can't bear to disappoint her for much longer. |D So here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy~ Sorry it took so long, once again.

One of my reviewers told me that this story is starting to look a bit too much like 10 Things I Hate About You. If it is, I'm sorry. As stated in the first chapter notes, I never intended for that to happen. I planned for there to be elements of both Taming of the Shrew _and_ 10 Things I Hate About You in this story, but I never wanted it to be a complete rip-off of either one. I'll attempt to be more careful in the future.

**Pairings**: Denmark/Norway, Sweden/Finland

**Background Noise**: Hong Kong/Iceland

**Warnings**: Shonen-ai, swearing, underage drinking, ideologically sensitive material.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Axis Powers: Hetalia. Denmark, Norway, and all other characters and concepts are the property of Hidekaz Himaruya and his associates. Nor do I own Taming of the Shrew, written by William Shakespeare, or 10 Things I Hate About You, which is property of Touchstone pictures. The only thing I own is the story below as you see it written.

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Rooftop Truths<strong>

* * *

><p>Nikolai was not at school the next day, but this in itself was not overly concerning. No doubt the alcohol he'd consumed the previous evening had left him with quite a hangover. However, the fact that Nikolai refused to return any of the ten texts that Mathias sent throughout study hall and his free period was rather concerning. The texts hadn't been requesting any soul-searching answers either; the first one had consisted been something like, "You're probably still asleep, but text me back when you get this. You don't have to talk, just tell me if you're okay."<p>

Mathias was pretty sure that the last five had all been, "Feeling okay? Please respond."

When the seventh hour dismissal bell rang, signaling the fact that it was three o'clock, Mathias dropped his head onto his desk and cursed. His classes were almost over for the day, and still no word from Nikolai. At the very least, the other boy should have woken up by now—whether it be to try to eat something or maybe drag himself to the bathroom—seen all the texts on his phone, and texted Mathias back. At this point, Mathias didn't even care if the text was telling him to shut up. At least he would know Nikolai was okay then.

"You probably shouldn't worry," Xang muttered as they walked out of study hall. Xang was headed upstairs to his robotics class, Mathias was headed to the other side of the building for his Advanced Biology class. They usually walked as far as the staircase together before splitting up. "I mean, I probably wouldn't want to talk to anyone either. If it'll make you feel better, I'll ask Ice about it. But that's all I can do. You probably shouldn't be too adamant about this, Mathias. You two aren't together _yet_. And who knows. Nikolai could be the kind that's scared away by too much clinging."

"Yeah, you're right," Mathias sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "But what's too much and what's not enough?"

"There can sometimes be a very thin line between the two," murmured Xang cryptically, before waving at Mathias and bounding up the stairs. "I'm going to be out with family tonight. Text but don't call, and don't expect lengthy conversations."

"Got it," Mathias replied.

"Oh, Mathias?" Xang muttered, stopping on the second floor landing and glancing over the railing. Mathias craned his neck back to look at his friend, and Xang dropped a rolled-up ball of notebook paper upon his head. Mathias yelped and rubbed his forehead, although it was far from actually hurting, and said, "What was that for?"

Xang chuckled and said, "A flyer that you'll thank me for later. The drive-in movie theatre down the street hasn't been getting very good business during the week the last few years. So, apparently they're instituting this new ploy. Tickets are two for the price of one for seven o'clock movies tonight. In other words, your date gets in free." Here, he did the typical Xang thing of raising his eyebrows _oh-so_ intellectually. "Think about it. Hangovers don't last all day and it's supposed to be a nice night. Catch a two-hour movie and you'll be home before bedtime. Still gives you plenty of time to talk."

Mathias gave a little hum, examining the flyer—basically the same information Xang had just recited to him, in black ink on powder blue paper—and glanced back up at Xang to inquire, "This is the address?"

"No, that's where the pope lives." Xang was completely deadpan, not even rolling his eyes, and gave Mathias a little salute. "Tell His Holiness that I said hi. I'll see you after school."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Mathias proceeded to shove the flyer in his backpack and completely forget about it upon arriving in Biology and realizing that today was the day that they were to start dissections. They did one a card marking in Advanced Biology, although of course Mathias hadn't been there for the others. The most he'd ever dissected was a frog in ninth grade Introduction to Biology, and a sheep's eyeball in tenth grade Physical Science.

This year they were doing a fetal pig for their final dissection.

He had two partners; twins. The Vargases. One of them didn't want to touch the pig at all and instead was given the job of recorder. However, all he did was sit there and doodle tomatoes on his own sheet, without any concern at all for what Mathias was telling him to write down. Eventually Mathias just started recording himself.

The other one wanted to help, and Mathias wished he wouldn't. _This_ twin was the main reason that Mathias walked out of the classroom that day covered in preservatives and sporting a slit on the underside of his palm from the heel of his hand to the base of his pinky finger. Mr. Bonnefoy reminded him no less than four times as he was walking out the door that he'd signed a release form when he signed up for the class and, therefore, could not blame the school for lab accidents. Mathias waved him off with his uninjured hand and hurried out of the classroom.

Mathias at least took comfort in the fact that it was his _left_ hand, and therefore not the hand that he had to write with.

He was so out of it, in fact, that at first he thought the figure—the full-bodied, utterly _hulking_ figure—that careened into him near the library access hall was Xang. Upon turning to complain to his friend, though, he realized that he was for some reason addressing a shoulder instead of the top of Xang's head. He looked up, and couldn't decide whether to run, curse, or scream in fright.

"Privet," chirped Ivan Braginski.

Mathias decided on the unexplored fourth option: Poker face. "Hi. Long time no see. How's the wife and kids?"

Ivan's face stretched into something long that managed to convey both utter lack of amusement and barely-concealed threat. "I trust you have not forgotten our deal, yes?"

"Uh…no." Mathias began the precarious mission of inching away from Ivan and back to the safety of the throng of students. "I'm working on it. Really I am. It's just…slow in coming. He's a tough nut to crack…" In the crowd, he saw a somewhat familiar head of blonde bobbing above the rest. If he could hold Ivan off for just a few more minutes…

"Surely you do not need more…_incentive_, yes?" Ivan was cornering him—the fact that Mathias was now caught between the end of a row of lockers and the door of an unused janitor's closet was no coincidence. Mathias scrapped his sweaty palms over the smooth surface of the lockers as he tried to thing of something—_anything_ to say or do that would get him out of this situation unharmed. That yellow blonde oasis was still about a minute away if he was anyone to judge the flow of foot traffic, and until then Mathias had to hold his own. Casually, he breathed, "Well…actually…"

Ivan's head tilted to the side, like a surprised predator whose prey had just busted out some unique form of defense mechanism. "Hmm?"

"You see…I seem to have run out of money rather quickly, for my efforts…" Though he felt like a tool saying this, it was the only way he could think of to maybe get Ivan off his back for a few more weeks until he figured out what to do about Nikolai.

Then Mathias realized that he didn't have _time_ to do much of anything either way; prom was that coming weekend.

Ivan, for his credit, seemed to actually tone down his menacing glare and a hint of thoughtfulness came to his face and tone. "Yes. And."

"Well, I'm just saying…Renting a suit isn't going to be cheap, and I don't have a job. All of our money goes into bills and caring for my sick grandmother." Well, that part was not a lie. The entire reason they'd moved to BFE Northern California was for Mathias's sick grandmother. "And, you know. Nikolai, he's really high-maintenance. I really don't know what I've gotten myself into, and I'm starting to loose interest, but…If you gave me an extra, say, sixty I could probably stay with it until after prom." Inwardly, he cringed at his own words and begged God, his mother and Nikolai to forgive him for ever letting anything like that come out of his mouth. Outwardly, he gave off what he hoped was an air of casual.

Ivan looked conflicted. "And you are sure you can finish the job if I give you the extra money."

Mathias flashed the grin that had made him a notorious bad boy. "Positive."

For a moment, Ivan examined him. Mathias must have run a pretty good con because the larger boy sighed and pulled out his wallet. "How much did you say again?"

"Sixty," Mathias said. Immediately, he was handed three twenties. "Jeez, how much money do you carry around with you, dude? Did I just empty your wallet?"

"Please. That is merely pocket money." Then Ivan wandered off, leaving Mathias to gawk. But not before the blonde savior arrived—a second too late—and Mathias latched onto him. "Bernard! Buddy."

The tall—almost as tall as Ivan, Mathias could only assume—bespectacled boy eyed him distrustfully while adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. "What."

"Hi, Bernard! How are you?"

"It's…Berwald…_what_?"

Mathias chuckled slightly and dragged Berwald down the hall, out of earshot of the menace still lurking in the hall behind them. "Look. I need you to find your little perky-assed plaything—"

"Hey!" Berwald now reached out and physically wrenched Mathias' hand off his shoulder. A heated glare was upon his face, and Mathias found it, if anything, more terrifying than Ivan's. Fortunately, he knew that Berwald at least would probably not act on the rage boiling within him. That didn't make it any less terrifying, though. "_No one_ calls Tino a playthin', _got it_?"

Mathias rolled his eyes, but did feel a little bad. He'd just insulted the guy's boyfriend to his face, after all. Even if said boyfriend was, indirectly or not, responsible for all his current woes. "Yeah, sorry. That was out of line. But seriously, I need to find Tino. Nikolai hasn't been returning my texts and I'm worried about him…"

"Nikolai _wouldn't_ have returned any of your texts," muttered the usually sweet voice of the younger of the two brothers. At the moment, it was decidedly unamused and Mathias slowly glanced to the side. Tino's face was unamused as well. "He left his phone at the party last night. Bell's going to bring it by sometime today."

"Oh." Relief flooded Mathias, and he seemed to sag with it. Before he let himself become completely caught up in it, however, he asked, "So, he's okay though yeah?"

"Well, no," Tino said. "I mean, a migraine is never fun. That's why he stayed home today. But he was walking around and being Nikolai when I left, and all four limbs were attached so I would say, yes, he's okay by those standards." He frowned now. "I don't appreciate being referred to as a plaything. People hear things around here, and if someone starts a rumor from it, that's all I'll hear until graduation. So please."

Feeling chastised once again, Mathias scratched the back of his head and glanced down. "Er…Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm just…in a bad mood. I shouldn't have said that about you." He dragged his fingers down his face, stretching it into something grotesque. Tino's expression seemed to soften, and he muttered, "Are you okay, Mathias?" He could tell Berwald wasn't happy about his concern for the other student, but Tino placated him by snaking a hand into Berwald's and squeezing. Berwald was sweet, but a terribly jealous creature under the right circumstances.

"Yeah," Mathias sighed. "Stalin's just…getting impatient, is all."

It took Tino a second to get the reference, and when he did he let go of Berwald's hand to massage his temples. "To be honest I hoped he'd forgotten about it."

"Haha, please. _I_ was the one who forgot about it." Realizing they were creating an obstruction just standing there in the middle of the hallway, Mathias turned and started to walk off, trusting the other two to follow. "I guess the only way to do this is tell Nikolai what's going on."

"No," Tino said immediately, shaking his head. "No, you can't do that. Nikolai would jump to conclusions and either think you were lying about Ivan, or believe the story about Ivan and instead think you've been lying to him about genuinely caring for him. Neither of them are good, and I can't stand to see him hurt like that." He looked down, and nervously adjusted his backpack strap. "You're not as far from a breakthrough as you think, Mathias. Nikolai's been acting differently the last few weeks, and that's not just coincidence. Just keep trying."

"I don't have much _time_ for that, though. Prom is Saturday."

"Just _trust me_ here," Tino said, grabbing Mathias' wrist and squeezing with unexpected strength for someone of his stature. Mathias actually winced. It was then that he realized how _serious_ Tino was about all of this. "_Please_."

Mathias sighed, deflating and nodding. "Okay. I'm trusting you. But really Tino, I'm just not sure how we're going to go from him barely tolerating me, to him accepting an offer to go to prom with me in under a week. I just don't think that's possible."

"You don't have as far to go as you think you do," Tino murmured. "I live with him. I've seen how he's been acting. He's not nearly as indifferent to you as you think."

Mathias glanced into the middle distance for a moment, scrutinizing the lock on the closest locker. Then he nodded. "Do you think he'd let me talk to him today? I really need to. Or do you think he's too sick?"

"Frankly, I don't think it's all that bad." Tino and Berwald were preparing to head off in the other direction; Tino stepped back towards Berwald and took one of the guy's long arms, wrapping it around his slim shoulders. "This is the first time he's been sick in years, so Dad knew it had to be bad for him to ask to stay home. He didn't even have any obvious symptoms. He just said that he didn't think he could go in today. I'm doubting how sick he really is."

Mathias was the only one in the group who knew what had actually happened, and he was well-aware of the consequences if he let slip to Tino just what his brother had been doing the previous night. All he could do was nod and say, "Notes taken. Are…you going to be going back to your house?"

"No," Tino said. "Berwald and I are going to get an early dinner together. Neither of us takes a lunch, so we're pretty hungry." Apparently, his own offense from earlier was nothing but a distant memory for Tino because he smiled that typically sweet smile that he gave everyone and said, "Just talk to him. Be there for him. That's all you really can do."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. So he just nodded and started heading off towards his own locker. He saw Xang and Ice passing him, and he acknowledged his friend but didn't make an effort to chat. Xang looked busy, taking advantage of Ice for once being without a nearby Nikolai. They looked involved in their conversation, so Mathias carried on, grabbed everything he needed out of his locker, and continued on towards the doors.

To be honest, Mathias had expected to need to bang on the door rather obnoxiously and have a yelling match with the door before Nikolai would answer. He didn't expect the door to open in a reasonable amount of time after he'd rung the bell the first time and Nikolai to be standing there, usually deadpan expression in place. The expression faltered a bit when he saw Mathias, but he didn't frown or close the door. "Oh. It's you."

"Were you…expecting someone else?" Mathias said, chuckling nervously.

"Not particularly," Nikolai muttered, glancing over Mathias' shoulder as if he was looking for someone all the same. "I kind of thought Tino had just forgotten his key. I wonder where he is, though? School let out forty minutes ago." He sighed and glanced back at Mathias' face. "I'm going to assume you're not here just to stand on my doorstep. Do you want to come in?" Even though he said it grudgingly, Mathias was pleased. The Nikolai of a week ago would have turned him away immediately upon seeing who was on the other side of the door.

"I would like that," Mathias replied, happily but calmly. Nikolai didn't need his typical nervous jitters right now.

"Alright." Nikolai stepped out of the doorway and instead continued back into the house. Mathias came in and closed the door behind him, following Nikolai after being told to keep the door unlocked should Tino come home. Mathias wondered whether it would be wise to tell Nikolai where his brother really was, before deciding against it. He wasn't certain of Nikolai's opinion on the relationship, after all, and it wasn't really his place to say.

He followed Nikolai into the kitchen, where the other boy pulled a mug down from one cupboard and a tea bag from another. Glancing over his shoulder, he explained, "I was making tea when you knocked. Do you want some? I would offer coffee but caffeine will only make my headache come back." As he spoke, he pulled the sleeves of his overlarge sweatshirt up to his elbows and poured the boiling water into the mug.

"Eh, no thanks. I'm not a big tea-drinker."

"Suit yourself," Nikolai muttered, dipping the teabag in now. "If you don't want a drink, can you stop hovering? It makes me nervous."

Mathias quickly hopped out of the kitchen, to stand awkwardly in the living room and stare at the furniture. He never knew where to sit in someone else's house. "Uhm…is there anywhere specific where I can't sit?"

"No," came the simple answer, and so Mathias sat himself down gingerly on the nearest sofa and kicked one ankle onto the other knee. He'd just gotten himself into a semi-relaxed pose when Nikolai wandered in and dropped onto the sofa beside him, sitting on one leg and letting the other dangle, foot elegantly arched to reach for the floor but not quite touching it. Mathias stared at that small, fine-boned foot as he pondered the current situation.

"Are you okay?" Mathias muttered eventually.

"As can be expected," Nikolai replied coolly, staring into his drink as he stirred it. "My hangover is gone, if that's what you're wondering."

"Nikolai…do you remember yesterday, at all?" Mathias mumbled. He'd just come to the realization that perhaps Nikolai had been drunk enough to forget a lot of what had happened yesterday. In which case Mathias would be back at square one and that was not a fun place to be.

"I remember everything, of course," Nikolai whispered. "I wasn't that drunk. And before you ask, I really don't want to talk about it. It was the alcohol talking."

"I really think we should," Mathias mumbled. "Talk about it, I mean. I mean, obviously you said that for a reason. Someone like you just doesn't…say those things. Even when you've had some alcohol. That's just not you."

"What do you mean 'someone like me'?" Nikolai remarked suspiciously, taking a cautious sip of his drink.

"You're just…very level-headed and you don't…say things like that normally," Mathias murmured. He noticed Nikolai's hairpin was missing, and his usually swept-back locks were hanging in his eyes. Mathias realized why he held them back all the time now; they laid in such a way that they completely obscured his field of vision in his left eye. Before he could think about the consequences, he found himself reaching out to swipe that hair behind Nikolai's ear. Nikolai flinched.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he eased his head away from Mathias' hand.

"Uhm…getting your hair out of your eyes," Mathias said, flushing pink and looking down. "Sorry. It seemed like a good idea inside my head."

"Hmm," Nikolai uttered, taking another sip of tea. "Anyway, getting back to the subject at hand, I don't want to talk about it, okay? It was a lapse in judgment for me. Let's not make a big deal out of it."

"But Nikolai! You basically accused me of only wanting you for your body; excuse me wanting to make a big deal out of it, but I'm trying to figure out why you thought that? Do I really give off that impression, or are you just so lacking in self-esteem that you actually think people only want you for your looks?"

"It's happened before, _okay_?" Nikolai growled, looking up now and glaring into Mathias' eyes. "And rather than make a fool of myself and allow myself to think that you're the only person that's ever really cared, I decided to take the easy way out and proposition you. I had no way of knowing that you weren't just like every other guy."

"So act just like every other guy?" Mathias muttered, only slightly devastated as he stared down at his fingers.

There was silence for a second. Then Nikolai muttered, "No. You don't. And I should have realized that." He reached towards the table, setting down his mug. "Mm, that's too weak. We ran out of the good tea. I'm going to pour that out." Then, almost as an afterthought, "Are you hungry? I'm starved. I haven't eaten anything all day." And even though it was obviously a rather transparent effort on Nikolai's part to alter the subject of conversation, Mathias jumped at it.

"Neither have I, actually," he said, racking his brain for a good place to eat. However, he'd spent far too little time in this town to have any knowledge whatsoever of the eating establishments. "Errr…what time is it?"

Nikolai glanced towards the mantle, and Mathias realized for the first time that there was a clock hanging there, "Four-thirty. Why? What do you have in mind?" He didn't sound suspicious, which Mathias saw as a very good thing.

"Know anywhere good around here that starts selling dinner at around five?" Mathias asked. Then, for the first time remembering the flyer he still had in his bag, he said, "Also, what's your opinion on drive-in movies?"

"I'm okay with them." Nikolai paused after this and quirked an eyebrow, glancing through his hair at Mathias. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Mathias only continued to smile as Nikolai narrowed his eyes, let out a huff of irritation, and grabbed his mug. As Nikolai passed on his way to the kitchen, Mathias inquired, "Anyway, about food? You know anyplace around here? I haven't really been around enough to know what's good or not."

"Depends on what you're in the mood for." Dumping his mug unceremoniously into the sink, Nikolai turned back around and started heading upstairs. He paused on only the third one, though, realizing that he still owed Mathias a straight answer. Turned around and propped a hip against the banister. "There's a café not far into town, they sell gourmet sandwiches and such. There's also a German deli down the street. Also, pizza. I haven't had pizza in forever. It's run by Roma Vargas; the man is everywhere in this town. He's got some low-ranking position in the council, so he shows up at all the school events and stuff. He's very nice, though. His grandsons are Feliciano and Lovino. Have you met them?"

"Uh. Yeah. I've met them." Mathias tried not to think about his still-aching hand too hard.

Although he didn't really want to place himself in the Vargas twins' line of fire twice in one day, he wasn't really in the mood for German food and he wasn't quite sure he had the money to pay for a 'gourmet' sandwich at some café. "Pizza, you said?"

"Yeah. It's pretty good." Nikolai shifted his weight to the other foot, preparing to continue heading upstairs. "You want that?'

"Sure," Mathias said. "Sounds good."

"Okay. I'll be down in twenty minutes." Then Nikolai headed up the stairs, leaving Mathias in the living room.

* * *

><p><strong>7:10 the same night; drive-in theatre<strong>

* * *

><p>"Fu-u-uck, this thing won't connect! Goddamnit…" Mathias hit the dashboard radio thrice in an attempt to get the static to clear. It was at the point where he wondered if the channel he'd been told to connect to in order to hear the movie was either the wrong one, or faulty.<p>

At the moment, Nikolai was laying up the broad roof of Mathias' sedan, lazily fiddling with the antenna at Mathias' request. The other boy hadn't been too crazy about the idea of a drive-in movie, but apparently he'd warmed up to the idea because Mathias no longer heard him complaining.

In the end, they _had_ ended up eating at the pizza place. Feliciano had been their server and he'd sheepishly ignored looking at Mathias, his left hand especially. It had been a pleasant, if quiet meal. Nikolai kept pointing out how disgusting he thought Mathias was for all of the parmesan he put on his pizza, but Mathias pointed out that Nikolai was equally as disgusting for being in the ranks of the five percent of people in the world who actually enjoyed anchovies on their pizza. Nikolai brushed him off.

Their bicker was comfortable and natural. Mathias was starting to really like it.

"Anything yet?" Nikolai muttered, but Mathias heard him. Nikolai was laying so his head was propped above the open driver's side door. He probably could have whispered and Mathias would have heard him.

"No," Mathias muttered, smacking the radio again. They'd already missed about ten minute of the movie. "Can you think of anything else to do?"

"Well, there's this."

"What?" Curious, Mathias got out of the car and stood up, leaning against it with his arms folded. He was rather tall, so it was actually comfortable for him to stand like this and watch as Nikolai took out his phone—one of those fancy touch screen ones that Mathias had never even held much less knew how to use—and began scrolling through it. It didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for, because he glanced at Mathias and said, "What station is it?"

"Er…85.9," Mathias replied. Nikolai hit a few more buttons, and suddenly sound was coming out of his phone. It didn't take Mathias long to realize it was the audio belonging to the movie. He stared at it for a moment, and bemusedly inquired, "How'd you do that?"

"Radio App," muttered Nikolai, sitting up and scooting over. "Are you getting up here or not? If you are, bring that blanket you have and hand me my sweatshirt. It's cold tonight."

"That was…easier than I thought it'd be," Mathias muttered, reaching into the back of the car and retrieving both the blanket and Nikolai's sweatshirt. "I guess we should be glad Bell dropped that thing off when she did." Bell had been by right before they left with Nikolai's phone. Nikolai had been relieved to have it back, to say the least.

He tossed both the sweatshirt and blanket Nikolai's way, and after putting the former on, he spread the latter out over the cold top of the car so they chill through their thin summer clothes. Mathias closed the door on the blanket to keep it in place and clambered onto the roof via the trunk, laying himself on his stomach.

Nikolai was on his back with his head handing down on the windshield. Mathias waited for him to get uncomfortable and take up a different position like most people would after they realized that the position they'd stretched into was in no way a position to stay in. That moment never came, however. Mathias was giving Nikolai nervous glances for about twenty minutes before he finally snapped and said, "Your blood is going to rush to your head."

"My head isn't inclined enough for that." Mathias continued to stare at him uneasily, and Nikolai glanced at said nervous expression out of the corner of his narrowed eyes. "Fine." He rolled onto his side and propped his head onto his hand, watching that way. "Happy?"

"Yes." Mathias glanced back at the movie. After a second, he murmured, "Hey, Nikolai?"

"What?"

"Earlier, when you said…'It's happened before'…When we were talking about people just wanting to sleep with you. What did you mean?"

Nikolai stiffed. It didn't even look like he was breathing. "None of your business."

"Please?" Mathias whispered, reaching out to place his fingers against Nikolai's wrist. He flinched. "I just…want to know. I won't judge you. You remember what I told you yesterday, right? You've got to. You wouldn't be here right now if you didn't. You'd still be pushing me away like your life depended on it."

"Why…do you want to know so badly?" Nikolai muttered, watching Mathias' fingers trace the vein on his wrist like one might have watched an insect inch up their leg. Mildly disturbed, but with rapt attention and confliction over whether to shake it off or let it reach its destination and wait to see what it would do next.

"Because I care. And people what to know when they care." Taking a chance, he spread out his hand and nestled his fingers against Nikolai's.

Nikolai's eyes widened. "But I don't know how. I've never told anyone. Except for Tino…and he found out by himself. And he doesn't even know everything. I…I can't. I don't know how. I don't even know where to start."

"Start at the beginning."

"What part of _I can't_ don't you understand?" Nikolai demanded, sitting up and glaring at Mathias. He didn't let go of his hand.

"The 'can't' part…?" Mathias ventured idly. "I mean, nothing's keeping you from opening your mouth and letting words out. Please, just tell me. I won't judge you. I _won't_."

For a moment, Nikolai's mouth flopped. Open and closed, open and closed. He was lost for words. Eventually, he turned away and stared resolutely at the movie screen. Sighing, Mathias wrote it off as yet another lost cause, squeezed Nikolai's hand, and prepared to let go. Nikolai's hand suddenly clenched, so hard that Mathias doubted he could have gotten his hand away without dislocating something. He glanced at Nikolai with a question on the tip of his tongue, but Nikolai beat him to it by saying, "If you want me to do this, you'll give me a second to gather my thoughts and you _won't_ let go of my hand."

Mathias listened and listened _well_. He sat, absolutely silent and barely breathing, for a full five minutes while Nikolai did the same. The only movement either of them made was Mathias rubbing the back of Nikolai's hand with his thumb.

"I guess…everything started on my thirteenth birthday," Nikolai mumbled. "My mother had been feeling bad for a few weeks, so she went to the doctor about a week before. The results came back that day, and in the middle of my birthday party my mom started crying. They didn't want to tell me what was going on, but I made them. She…She'd been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. When I found out, I told my friends to leave and I ran upstairs and cried for hours. I think I cried more than my mom did, to be honest."

"It's always harder for those left behind than those leaving," Mathias murmured, continuing to simply stroke Nikolai's hand.

Nikolai made a vaguely acknowledging noise and continued, "It just kind of sucked, you know? "Happy birthday, your mom's dying." I think...at first it was self pity that I cried from. And then it was...just utter sadness. I cried so much in the last few months that I got _sick_ of it. I've never cried again because of it. Even though...the last few months were…happy. We went back to Norway one last time, and we went camping for the weekend by the lake. Mom always loved that. It was almost easy to forget that she was dying.

"But one morning, she just couldn't get out of bed. And she died a week later. That's how fast it happened." Mathias felt a shiver go through Nikolai and pulled him closer. Nikolai laid back down, to get more comfortable and to be at eye-level with Mathias. "I think…we were all in denial for a long time. I spent pretty much the whole summer in a daze, same with the first few months of eighth grade…Ice started noticing it too. We got in a huge fight and it ended with us not talking for…months. It was probably the most painful time in my life.

"To top it off, no one seemed to take notice of me. Dad buried himself in work…he still does. And Tino kind of didn't know what to do with either of us. I mean, he missed Mom too. But he hasn't lost a mother or wife. He'd only really _known_ my mother for four years, when our parents got married and started living together. He…gravitated towards helping his father. I understand that. But it still hurt to have _no_ support. No one to lean on. It got to me after a while, and…all at once I couldn't take it anymore."

"What's that mean?" Mathias murmured, furrowing his brows and frowning. Around them, the majority of the moviegoers gasped at something that happened on television. Neither noticed.

"The summer after eighth grade…I met this guy," sighed Nikolai, rubbing his eyes. "His name was Gilbert and he told me he could show me a good time. And…for some reason I didn't tell him no. I should have…I wanted to. But for some reason I _didn't_. And I…I've regretted it ever since."

"Good time…" Mathias said slowly. On his face, horror dawned. "That sounds like…one of those sleazy dealers…You're not…oh, baby, you didn't…?"

Nikolai laughed humorlessly and glared at the blanket. "Hah. He was dealing something, but it wasn't what you're thinking of. No, I wasn't doing drugs. Gilbert took me to a bar, yeah? One of those really sleazy ones where people have sex against the bathroom stalls and puke in the back ally and no one gives a damn because _everyone_ there is smashed?"

"Oh." Mathias wasn't sure that was better.

"I got kinda drunk," Nikolai mumbled. "And…we did things. That wasn't the night I lost my virginity; that happened a little while later…but…you've got to understand. When I was with Gilbert, I…I felt _wanted_ for the first time in a long time. I wasn't being looked at with pity or like I was some culture growing in a Petri dish, and a scientist was waiting for me to explode. I was being looked at like I was a _person_. I was being looked at like I was _wanted_. I didn't realize until a lot later that it wasn't the kind of want that I though.

"I did that for…almost a year. At one point, I started failing one of my classes because of it, biology…the teacher was loose. I figured it was worth the risk to proposition him to get my grade. Plus, it would be a nice break from the sleazy bathroom hook-ups. That kind of turned into a…weird relationship. He made me feel good, and I made him feel good in a different way. And even though he eventually told me to get lost, I think it…was for my own good. He said it in such a way…'You're a smart kid, so why are you so stupid as to be sleeping around like this? Find someone who cares.' I…don't think he was saying that he _didn't_ care. I think he was saying that I needed to find someone who could give me what I needed."

"That's…," Mathias felt distinctly uncomfortable. Because he was pretty sure which teacher Nikolai was talking about. "Well."

"He's not a bad guy," Nikolai whispered. "He cleaned me up. I stopped sleeping around after him."

Mathias nodded. "Well, I guess I should thank him then, huh?"

"Yeah." Nikolai glanced to the side, at the movie which he hadn't looked at for a good fifteen minutes. Nothing made sense anymore but he still stared at it as though fascinated. "So, uhm. Now you know. And I tell what you think, by the way. What I did was disgusting."

"Well, yes," Mathias muttered, and Nikolai gasped. He really hasn't expected that, no matter how much he told himself Mathias would be utterly disgusted. His lips wobbled and all too quickly, there was something dribbling out of the sides of his eyes. It'd been so long, he hardly recognized them as tear. "Oh God, Nikolai, don't cry! Let me finish, baby, please!"

"Shut up, I'm not crying!" Nikolai cried, rolling onto his back and willing the tears to seep back into his ducts. "Don't be stupid, I haven't tried in years, why would I now?" Defying him, they continued to dribble out of the sides of his eyes, like miniature streams, and dampen his hair before gathering below his head.

"Nikolai, what you did…it's disturbing. I'm not going to lie," Mathias whispered, propping himself on his elbows and staring down at Nikolai. "But what's equally disturbing is that no one noticed or tried to help. And, hey, _you're not doing it now_. You realized what you were doing was wrong. You cleaned yourself up. And that's all that matters. Besides, it makes you who are. And I fell in love with you how you are. If you hadn't done these things…you wouldn't be the Nikolai I know." He sighed and brushed his thumb under Nikolai's eyes. He tried to hold back a sob. All he managed to do was hiccup, then sob. "Oh, please stop crying, pretty baby."

"I don't know how." Nikolai whispered. "You've got me crying now, you big idiot. I may cry forever."

"Nah. Eventually I'll dam you up. And you'll smile." Mathias smiled softly and unclipped Nikolai's hair, watching as it fell into his eyes and then gently pulling it away. "Have I ever told you you're beautiful?"

"That's so sappy," whispered Nikolai. But one hand rose to Mathias' shoulder. "You say such embarrassing things."

"I know." He dropped his shoulder, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to realize what he was doing. Nikolai dropped his hand and let Mathias' head come millimeters from his own. He felt the very tips of Mathias' lips brush over his own as he muttered, "You'll learn to love it."

"Shut up. Please." Nikolai's eyes fluttered closed and he tilted his head, reaching his neck up the last few millimeters and connecting their lip properly. Mathias' fingers curved under his head, and he laid his head back down, running his fingers through Mathias' hair.

His tears stopped.

* * *

><p><strong>End Chapter; TBC<strong>

* * *

><p>AN: Hnnng. So I finally did it. Uhm…I'm not sure if I'm happy with this. It seems like it all came out way too quickly, and Nikolai was terribly OOC in my opinion. I'm sorry…

If you guys enjoyed though, that's all that matters! I fear this may be the last update before I go back to school. I was hoping to have this done before I went back, but lo and behold I decided to be lazy and procrastinate for, what? A month? Yeah. But it can't be helped. I'll continue to update during the school year, of course. And my update schedule probably won't change too drastically. I always somehow find time to write.

You all have my girlfriend to thank for this chapter, by the way. Honestly, if it weren't for her, I probably wouldn't have even started this chapter yet. But I can never disappoint her, and this is one of her favorite stories. So all of you can thank Brianna. |D (I love you. ^o^ Hopefully you wake up to this in your inbox and are happy~)

Well, goodbye for now~

-Lynn

(I'm once again posting this unbeta'd. It's like one o'clock in the morning and I honestly just wanna get this up and out. If there are any huge, glaring mistakes, please mention them and I'll edit them when I beta in the morning before sending it off to my _real_ beta.)


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